


Love, Regardless of Direction

by AutumnVine



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: But different, Byleth likes to give hugs in this one, Edeleth, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everything up until the time-skip is Canon, F/F, My Unit | Byleth Has Emotions, No Divine Pulse (Fire Emblem), Silver Snow/Crimson Flower Route, Slow Burn, everything after is divergent, first some angst then fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 95,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22894504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnVine/pseuds/AutumnVine
Summary: Byleth and Edelgard reunite and clash at the Goddess Tower, but fate isn't ready to put them on their separate paths just yet.Or:Edeleth from a different angle.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 456
Kudos: 1317





	1. Fateful Reunion

Byleth’s steps are heavy as she ascends the Goddess Tower. With each footfall reverberating up and down the staircase, her presence is sure to be detected. _Damn it, was the tower always this tall?_ Though healed, her body strains under the activity, a consequence of her five-year slumber. 

She’d only been in this place once before, when she was seeking sanctuary from the multitude of eager students wanting to share a dance with their favorite teacher. Sylvain had pestered her for most of the evening, and she had ducked out in the hopes of a well-deserved break. She hadn’t expected to find someone else there; now, so many years later, she hopes she does. 

With a final step, Byleth arrives at the top landing. She pauses, taking in the stars and the moonlight for as long as she can. Then she lowers her gaze, settling on the room’s sole other occupant. A woman dressed in red, trimmed with gold. Her back bears the mighty eagle of Adrestia. 

And when she turns around, Byleth almost loses her breath. _She’s beautiful_. Time had only served to refine Edelgard’s features, turning a young schoolgirl into a regal emperor. Her white hair was twisted into two buns, each adorned with a golden horn. Her violet eyes widen when she sees Byeth. 

“My teacher…” Edelgard’s initial words are slow and clumsy, but she regains her confidence. “You came.” For a brief moment what appears to be a smile flashes across her face, but is quickly replaced by absolute neutrality. 

Byleth nods. “Of course. I made a promise, didn’t I?” There’s a tightening in her chest, a sensation that is quite new to her. 

“You did. As did I.” _Were her eyes always so sad? What has happened in these five years? Oh Edelgard…_ Byleth puts a foot forward, and Edelgard flinches. “Please, Professor, not one step closer.” 

“Edelgard, I…” But what could she say? 

“You may not have tried to strike me down in the holy tomb, and for that, I thank you. But when we clashed at Garreg Mach I saw the determination in your eyes, and I knew we could never be on the same side. Not truly.” She lowers her head, almost forlornly. “I have made the world my enemy, and if you are not with me, then you are against me.” 

_This is wrong,_ Byleth thinks, but how could she dispute her words? She had hesitated in that moment under the monastery, and that hesitation had betrayed her. 

“Please, Edelgard.” Byleth pleads, hoping her words will reach the emperor, that it isn’t too late for both of them. 

Instead, all she gets is a longing expression etched onto a face hardened by resolute purpose. And Byleth understands. She may have been adrift in the current of sleep, but for Edelgard, each day was a reminder of their promise, and the eventual pain it would bring. Closing off her heart was the only response, lest she falter and destroy herself. 

Edelgard raises her weapon, a thin sword colored in Adrestian red and gold. On instinct, Byleth raises the Sword of the Creator. She recognizes Edelgard’s stance; she had taught it to her. 

“My teacher, for everything you have done for me… I thank you from the bottom of my heart. But this is as far as we go together.” Edelgard stops for a moment, as if gathering her courage. “Professor, I…” But she shakes her head. “Perhaps that is better left unsaid.” Her eyes narrow. “Let us finish this, you and I.” And she charges forward. 

Byleth sees everything; the movement of her feet, the direction her blade will fall. It would be so easy to just block her attack, parry the weapon out of her hands and render the emperor defenseless. Her muscles scream at her to lift her own sword in return, to fight. Her brain pounds with the first injections of adrenaline. 

As if expecting a response, Edelgard feints, lowering her sword and straightening it, aiming now at Byleth’s heart. She sees this, sees the trajectory of her blade. _Do something,_ her mind says. _I don’t want to fight her,_ is her response. 

“I don’t want to fight you, Edelgard,” she says, but her words are lost as metal pierces her skin. The emperor’s sword pushes through her flesh, emerging with a small shower of blood. Surprisingly, the weapon wasn’t even close to her heart, but had hit her side instead. _Did Edelgard miss? On purpose or on accident?_ But Byleth’s thoughts are already scattered as she collapses to the ground, her vision growing spotty and dark. There is no pain. 

“Professor!” Edelgard yells, falling to her knees beside her. She grabs at Byleth, cradling her body. “Why didn’t you defend yourself?” Her eyes swim with worry. 

“I…I didn’t want to hurt you.” Byleth manages to croak these words out. She’s suffered more serious injuries in the past, and knows that her voice will be the first to go before her consciousness does. 

Edelgard pulls at the sword, tossing it to the side as she frees it from Byleth’s flesh. More blood now pools out of the open wound, and she presses her armored gauntlet to it, hoping to staunch the flow. She’s muttering to herself, words failing to escape her lips. Sparks of healing magic flash around the gauntlet, and Byleth almost laughs out loud. _How many times did I teach the Black Eagles that you need bare contact to make the heal spell work?_ It seems Edelgard hadn’t been paying perfect attention. 

“Please Professor, stay with me.” Byleth can feel herself be lifted up, held carefully in Edelgard’s arms. She lets go of the Sword of the Creator and hears it crash on the floor. With all the energy she can muster, she raises a hand to Edelgard’s cheek, brushing it gently. _Don’t worry, my little emperor_ she tries to say with her eyes. 

But then the darkness creeps in, and her vision goes black. 

—

Byleth’s dreams are feverish and hazy. She sees a large throne, devoid of an occupant. When she tries to walk forward, she realizes there is no ground, and falls. Feathers slow her descent, and she has the sensation of being held. It’s not wholly uncomfortable. 

_Byleth_

There! She hears something. 

_Professor_

Byleth’s eyes shoot open, and she sits upright. The light is overwhelming at first, and she takes a few seconds to adjust. 

“What on earth do you think you’re doing, Professor?” a familiar voice asks her. Byleth turns and blinks in surprise. She wasn’t expecting the woman standing next to her. 

“Manuela?” 

The physician smiles. “It’s good to see you. And in-” but before she can finish, Byleth leans forward and pulls her into a tight embrace. She lets out a small exclamation in shock. 

“I’m so happy to see you again, Manuela. I didn’t think I ever would.” But a sudden pain in her stomach forces Byleth to disengage, gasping sharply. 

“While I appreciate your enthusiasm, I’d rather you not act like you haven’t just been stabbed.” Manuela gestures to Byleth’s midsection, and she looks down. Her armor and jacket had been removed, leaving only her undershirt. A large amount of bandages wrap their way around her abdomen. “Please try not to reopen your wound. Not after all the trouble I went through of stitching you up.” 

Byleth glances around the room. Beds and medical equipment are neatly arranged. An infirmary. Overall, it seemed neater and more equipped than back at Garreg Mach. Her eyes are caught by a large banner hanging on one wall, red and black, depicting a massive two-headed eagle. The flag of the Adrestian Empire. 

“Manuela, where are we?” 

“Hmm, is it not obvious? We’re in Enbarr.” 

Enbarr, the Imperial capital. Which means… 

“How did I get here?” But Byleth already knows the answer. 

“Edelgard brought you in, covered in your blood. The poor thing was panicking.” Manuela gives a knowing smile. “Though I imagine she’ll deny it now.” 

“How long has it been?” 

“Only about a day or so. Edelgard warped you here, so I was able to treat you rather quickly.” 

_A day_. Time had become irrelevant to Byleth at this point; what was losing a day when five years had passed in the blink of an eye? 

“Thank you Manuela.” Byleth gestures to her wound. “I guess this makes us sisters, huh?” 

The former songstress roars with laughter. “Sisters… Oh professor, you crack me up.” She lays a hand over her own stomach, the location of the scar the Death Knight had given her all those years ago. 

Their moment is interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Both women turn to see Edelgard standing in the doorway. She isn’t wearing her crown, and as a result her long hair falls messily over her shoulders. A tired expression stares at Byleth; she can see the bags forming under the emperor’s eyes. 

“Oh,” Manuela says. “Looks like that’s my cue. I’ll give you kids some privacy.” Edelgard steps out of the way to let her pass. Manuela stops, giving Edelgard a sideways glance. “Try to go easy on the professor, Your Majesty. She’s only just woken up.” And with that, the former teacher leaves the room. 

Byleth and Edelgard stare at each other for a while, neither ready or comfortable to begin speaking. Finally Edelgard decides to break the silence. 

“How are you feeling?” Her words are slow, her tone exhausted. Byleth almost wants to turn the question around on her. _Have you not been getting enough sleep?_

“I’m alright, all things considered.” Byleth can see that this exchange will easily result in a stalemate, so she forces the issue. “I’m surprised to hear you ask that, considering you tried to kill me.” 

As expected, Edelgard appears startled by the accusation. She lowers her head, staring directly at Byleth’s wound. When she speaks, her voice is whisper-quiet. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I thought… I thought you would be the one to win that duel.” 

Now it’s Byleth’s turn to be surprised. “Did you think I would kill you?” Edelgard nods, and for a moment, Byleth is hit with an almost heart-wrenching burst of despair. _How long have you carried that fear inside? That the day I might show myself again, I would trample your ambitions to dust and take your life from you?_

“You saved my life.”

“Of course.” Edelgard looks like she wants to say more, but just repeats herself. “Of course I did.” Byleth doesn’t push it. If she isn’t mistaken, does she see guilt in the woman’s eyes?

“Thank you, Edelgard. I mean that, truly.” 

To her credit, Edelgard accepts the thanks. And in a voice so low Byleth strains to hear, she replies, “I don’t want to see you hurt like that, my teacher.”

Byleth wants so desperately to reach out and wrap her arms around the emperor. But she knows this wouldn’t be fair to either of them. The distance in their relationship had grown impossibly wide. 

So Byleth does the only other thing she can; deflect. 

“I have some questions regarding current affairs, if you don’t mind.” Edelgard appears surprised to see the change in topic, but seizes the opportunity. 

“Go right ahead. What do you want to know?” 

“Are you winning the war?” 

“We’ve been locked in a stalemate for the past few years. Neither the Kingdom nor Alliance posses the strength to push forward, but fighting a war on two fronts has strained our effort.” 

“Have there been any prominent casualties?” 

Edelgard shakes her head. “While there have been losses on both sides, nobody that you would know.” 

“And the Archbishop?” 

Edelgard frowns. “Rhea fled Garreg Mach after your intervention. She took refuge in the Kingdom, but hasn’t been seen in public in years.” 

“I see.” That’s almost a relief for Byleth. She isn’t quite sure how she feels about Rhea, but she still doesn’t want to see her dead or hurt. 

“If it had been Rhea in the Goddess Tower instead of me, would you have happily gone with her?” Edelgard’s tone is almost bitter. 

“Edelgard, I came back there to see _you._ ” Byleth is rewarded with Edelgard’s face turning red, something she hasn’t seen in a long time. But she quickly returns to normal, all trace of her blush removed. 

“But you won’t fight for me.” 

Byleth nods her head. She had thought about this in the weeks the faculty had waited for the Imperial army to reach Garreg Mach. She cared so much for Edelgard, and wished that there was a way they could walk the same path together. But the idea of fighting against the other students terrified her. It was so frustrating that she could do nothing while her former pupil continued in this direction. 

“Then you understand what I have to do.” Edelgard says these words with resolute steel in her voice, as if trying to convince herself. 

_Ah, the crux of the issue._ “I do.” 

“If the other powers knew that you were still alive, they’d do everything they could to get you on their side. By force or not. Since you won’t join mine, all I can do is make sure you stay out of the war entirely.” 

“I understand.” 

“Then I’ll make this simple.” Edelgard raises a hand, directing it towards her former professor. “I, Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg, ruler of the Adrestian Empire, hereby declare you an enemy of the state. By the power I wield, I place you into my custody, until a time comes in which this war is ended, and your loyalties are no longer in question.” She gives a small sigh. “Congratulations, my teacher. You are now my prisoner. I hope this is what you wanted.” 

Byleth closes her eyes and smiles. This wasn’t at all what she had hoped for. But when she imagines the alternatives, she’s grateful for this chance. 

_It’s a start._


	2. New Beginnings

The royal palace in Enbarr is magnificent, Byleth thinks to herself. The marble floors are polished to a shine, reflecting the granite stonework of the walls and ceiling, beautifully interlaid with red and gold. Tapestries are hung up, depicting key events from the Empire’s thousand-year history. There are small pools of water inserted into alcoves, accented with water lilies. She peers into one, and sees small fish swim around each other. For Byleth, it’s the perfect combination of opulent and reserved. _Just like Edelgard_. 

The professor is surprised by how quiet the entire building is. Aside from the guards and an occasional passing official or servant, the halls of the palace are entirely devoid of people. There are no hints that outside this castle, a war rages. 

Emperor Edelgard walks in front of Byleth, her pace deliberately slowed out of courtesy. Every so often she turns around to check on the older woman. Her face always betrays no emotion, but Byleth could see the concern in her eyes. _Sometimes I wonder if I can really read you like a book, Edelgard._ But if that had been true, how had she missed all the signs? Had the Flame Emperor’s true mask been made of porcelain, or flesh?

When she had attempted to stand up in the infirmary, the pain caused by her injury had immediately sent her tumbling to the floor. It had taken some effort, as well as encouragement by both Edelgard and Manuela before Byleth had been able to return to her feet. Even now, attempting to put any pressure on the right side of her body caused bolts of agony to shoot through her. So Manuela had given her a cane, with clear instructions regarding activities the professor was explicitly not allowed to do in her current state. 

“Professor.” Edelgard has come to a stop, and is staring intently at Byleth. “I’ll get someone to carry you. You really shouldn’t be walking, not yet anyway.” 

“I’m fine,” Byleth responds, hoping the small breaths she takes won’t give her away. “The cane is helping.” Edelgard’s eyes narrow, as if to say she doesn’t believe her, but she makes no attempt to press the issue. _I’ve willingly surrendered all my power and authority to you, Edelgard. I don’t want you to worry._

Eventually the two make their way down a hallway and stop. There are doors lining both sides, and Edelgard points to one. 

“This will be your bedroom. I’ll have a servant come by later and see if you need anything.” Edelgard gives Byleth a full glance. “And bring you a change of clothes.” Byleth can’t deny she needs that. Most of her clothing had been stained with blood, and what she was wearing now was a mismatch of what was still clean, and whatever Manuela had laying around. 

She opens the door, peeking her head inside. The room is modest, with a few dressers and a four-poster bed pushed against the back wall. A small basin for holding water sits on a pedestal, below a mirror. 

“This is nicer than I was expecting.” 

“And what you were expecting was…?”

Byleth turns to Edelgard so the two are looking directly at each other. “Honestly, to be put in chains and dragged to the dungeon.” _I don’t know if that’s true or not. But you’ve changed, my dear Edelgard._

Edelgard almost appears wounded by the remark, but her composure quickly snaps back to normal. “Professor, while it’s true that we are currently somewhere between friend and foe… please don’t think so low of me. And you are still injured. This is absolutely the best way for you to recover.” 

_She’s right. It was unfair of me to bait her like that._ “Then I thank you. Though I must admit, I’m not fully sure how to feel right now.” 

And now Edelgard smiles - and doesn’t try to hide it. “That makes two of us, Professor. Is there a feeling between relief and absolute apprehension? Because I think that would describe my current mood.” 

“Like there’s a large weight in your stomach?” 

“Yes, exactly.” She appears almost grateful to have shared this. There’s silence for a few moments before she speaks up again. “Professor. Regardless of what has happened, and what is yet to come, I am beyond thankful that you are still here among the living.” And before Byleth can respond, she turns and leaves down the hallway. 

“Edelgard, wait!” Byleth would run after her, but she’s certain that action would kill her. Edelgard stops, but doesn’t turn around. Her voice carries down the hall. 

“Get some rest, my teacher. I’ll send for you when it’s time for supper. We have a lot to talk about.” And then she’s gone. 

—

As much as Byleth tries to follow Edelgard’s advice, she finds herself restless. Despite the softness of the bed, her wound throbs, almost rhythmically. _Damn it, I shouldn’t have pushed myself._ It had been the same back at the monastery, where no matter how much her body ached, Byleth always put on a confident face for her students. 

An unknown amount of time passes as Byleth’s thoughts change and coalesce. No matter how much she tries, her mind always brings her right back to Edelgard. 

“I wish you were someone whose heart could be swayed by my words and deeds. If it were so, I would have done anything to make you my ally…” Edelgard’s lament is like a dagger through Byleth’s heart, each word pushing the blade deeper. She had stood there, the flames of war burning around them as the monastery fell, all else ignored. The armor of the Flame Emperor, but the face, not of Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg, but just Edelgard. Byleth’s student. Her friend. 

_Why, Edelgard? Why didn’t you just ask me? Beg with me, plead. Anything. If you had, would I have said yes?_

But no answer Byleth can give herself alleviates the pain. 

—

There’s a knock on the door, and Byleth snaps out of her daydreams and nightmares. She fumbles for her cane, using it to prop herself up in bed even as her injury screams at her. 

The door opens, and a young woman dressed in servant’s attire enters. 

“Pardon the intrusion, milady. The emperor asked me to give you these.” She lays down a bundle of clothing at the foot of the bed. “Was there anything else I could get you?” 

Byleth shakes her head. “No, thats quite alright.” She’s eager to get changed; Edelgard was too polite to say she needed a bath. 

“Very well then.” The servant almost turns to leave, but then stops. “Milady, it occurs to me that I don’t know what to call you. I’d hate to be so rude.” 

_That’s odd._ Byleth had interacted with the nobility a handful of times before finding herself at Garreg Mach, but had learned a set rule about them early on: never assume you’re on a first name basis with them. They parroted their titles around for a reason. _Though if there’s any noble that would insist on breaking that rule, it would be Edelgard._

 _Better safe than sorry._ “Flayn,” Byleth replies. “You may call me Flayn.” 

The servant smiles and bows. “Of course, Lady Flayn.” She closes the door behind her as she leaves. Byleth pauses, swearing that she hears talking from the hallway. Shrugging to herself, she gets up - with a considerable amount of help from the cane - and examines the clothing. Aside from a pair of modest grey slacks, Edelgard had given her an Imperial style dress shirt, meant to imitate traditional military uniforms. 

Byleth changes quickly, noting how well the shirt fits, especially in the front. _Well, this can’t have been Edelgard’s then._ Despite being alone in the room, she blushes slightly at her own internal remark. Examining herself in the mirror, Byleth admits that the choice of outfit suits her well. _Maybe Edelgard wanted to see me in this…_

Another knock at the door thankfully interrupts her line of thinking. “Come in!” she exclaims, expecting the servant from earlier. _Maybe she forgot something._ The door opens. 

“Well well, if it isn’t Professor ‘Flayn’.” The semi-mocking voice belongs to a tall figure both new and very familiar to Byleth. 

“Hubert?!” She’s astounded; like Edelgard, he’s changed over the years, his face growing sharper, hair expertly styled. Compared to his younger self, he cuts a more striking figure. 

He gives an exaggerated bow, his expression a constant smirk. “I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to see through my ruse so easily.” 

_Ruse? Oh, the name thing. So I was right to be suspicious._ “So that woman was one of your people, wasn’t she?” Byleth already finds herself growing tired of this; Hubert may enjoy his cloak and dagger games, but the professor always preferred a more straightforward approach. 

Before Hubert can respond, Byleth has made her way over to him, cane left by the bed. Making sure to avoid using her right side, she - much to Hubert’s surprise - wraps her arms around his torso and squeezes. 

“It’s good to see you Hubert. I’ve missed you.” _I really have._ And for the first time that Byleth has ever seen, he is too flustered to respond with his usual scathing wit. It isn’t until she breaks off the hug that he even speaks. 

“I… Professor, you are aware we are enemies, yes?” 

Byleth shrugs and shakes her head. “I don’t believe that. We’re having a civil conversation, aren’t we?” 

“Civil yes, but you are still Lady Edelgard’s prisoner. It would be appropriate of you to act more like it.” 

Gesturing at the room around her, Byleth raises an eyebrow. “I hardly feel like a prisoner. More like an honored guest.” 

“Her majesty doesn’t stab most of her ‘honored guests’.” 

Byleth winces. “Okay, fair point.” She sits down on the edge of the bed facing him, exhaling sharply when her wound disagrees. “Hubert, can we talk, openly?” 

She expects him to protest, to make snide comments about her loyalty, or his astronomically low levels of trust in her. But instead, he simply sits down on the bed next to her. And despite this being her idea, Byleth doesn’t know where to begin. 

So Hubert takes the initiative. “Professor, I suppose I owe you an apology. When I was told that Edelgard had taken you in, I naturally assumed the worst. To the people of Fódlan, you exist as a mythical figure. The former Ashen Demon, wielder of the Sword of the Creator, the goddesses’ own chosen. If word were to spread of your survival… well that would be most inopportune for us.

“So I set up that little test to see if you understood this as well.” He gives a slight chuckle. “I didn’t expect you to use a name I would recognize so readily.” 

“And you aren’t worried about the threat I might present to her directly?” 

Hubert nods. “At first I was, of course. It’s my job to ascertain dangers to her majesty.” He lowers his head, staring intently at the mirror across from them. Byleth gazes at their reflections, marveling at how different they are from each other. “But when Lady Edelgard told me what had transpired during your reunion, I felt as though I could trust you not to hurt her, even if just a little. She and I are both pragmatists and realists, Professor. Even on your worst day, we all know that she couldn’t defeat you in a one-on-one sword-fight.” 

“So you’re saying that if I had wanted to hurt or kill her, I would have done it then?” 

“Exactly. And perhaps, even after all that has happened, if she can trust you as much as she does, I can try to trust you a little.” 

Byleth reflects on this. “Thank you, Hubert. I admit, this entire situation is not what I had imagined it would be.” Her wound aches, sending a bolt of pain through her body, as if to taunt her. “Edelgard is very important to me. I care for her more than I can put into words. I…” _Is care the right word? Is that enough to describe how I feel?_

Hubert makes a noise somewhere between a hum and a growl. “Professor, let me cut to the heart of the matter. Your return at this time in the war is, to put it bluntly, extremely problematic. The Empire’s momentum has stalled, and our enemies only grow stronger as we wane in strength.” 

“And I make this problematic how…?” 

“Let me answer that with some questions of my own: Do you intend to join the war effort and fight for us?” 

Byleth shakes her head. “No.” _Please don’t ask me this. I can’t, I can’t see all that blood again, feel the life drain from another… I can’t return to being so hollow._

“Then will you take up your sword against us?” 

Again. “No.” 

“And do you not see the problem here? How do you expect this to end? You claim to care for her majesty, do you not?” 

Byleth furrows her brow and frowns. _Where is he going with this?_ “I do.” 

“And what will you do if she begins to lose the war? If the tides turn on us, and her enemies threaten to take her head from her body?” Hubert leans in close. “There is nothing wrong with neutrality, Professor. But you cannot protect what matters to you without fighting for it.” 

“Hubert, I…” But her words fail. 

“You may think it was kindness to remove what was destined to be a source of heartbreak. But all you’ve done is delay the inevitable.” He stands up, making his way to the door. “I offer you no easy solutions, Professor. This is a path you must decide for yourself.” He makes a motion for the door-handle. 

“Wait, Hubert.” Byleth fixes her eyes directly on his. Her question feels like a bizarre follow-up, but she has to know. “Why do you still call me Professor?” 

And now Hubert smiles, and she almost believes it to be genuine. “As much as I can pretend otherwise, I was once your student like everyone else. And maybe even now I believe that I mattered to you.” And with that, he exits the room, leaving Byleth in silence. 

She slowly brings a hand to her head, gently holding it. The reflection in the mirror does the same, though Byleth almost doesn’t recognize it. Green hair and eyes, set upon a worried face. When the people spoke of the Ashen Demon, it had been a young woman with blue hair and no soul. 

The Ashen Demon had never cried. 

Byleth Eisner does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that didn't get too melodramatic at the end. My biggest concern when starting this was that Byleth would end up being perfect, flawless, or always in the right. I wanted her decision - or lack thereof - to be something she actually struggles with.


	3. Honest Answers

“Ummm… if it would please milady to… no, I mean if you would like…” 

Byleth stares in mild amusement at the stammering individual in front of her. A young serving girl - different from the one Hubert had sent - was apparently trying to ask her something. _Emphasis on trying. Poor girl is going to pass out at this point._

“Breathe.” She keeps her own voice calm, a technique not too different from what riders used to calm spooked horses. “Can you breathe in and out for me?” The servant nods, and takes several large breaths. “Calmly. Otherwise you’ll only make the problem worse.” 

A few seconds of the breathing exercises appear to do the trick. The girl’s face is completely red and her eyes are on the brink of tears, but she is no longer hyperventilating. “T-thank you, milady. I’m so utterly embarrassed.” She looks in every direction except Byleth’s. “This is my first day on the job.” 

“Well, I think you’re doing fine. First days can be brutal.” Byleth gives her what she hopes is a reassuring smile. “Trust me on that.” The girl nods, and gives a small smile herself. _At least I’ve still got my old professor charm._ “Now, I believe you had something to tell me?” 

She stands upright and at attention. “R-right! Edelgard - I m-mean Emperor Edelgard - requests your presence for dinner, milady. I’m to take you there.” 

“Excellent,” Byleth replies. _Interesting that she calls it a request. Would I be allowed to refuse?_ There was a horrible gnawing sensation forming in the pit of her stomach, though she couldn’t discern if it was from hunger or nerves. She grabs for her cane, but finds it out of reach on the other end of the bed. The serving girl quickly scrambles to give it to her. 

“Thanks.” Byleth pushes hard with her left side as she lifts herself up. Just before she rises completely to her feet, a massive surge of agony crashes through her entire body, and she collapses to the floor. _Flames of damnation._ The serving girl panics, rushing to her side. 

“Oh…oh no! Are y-you ok miss?” 

“I’m fine,” Byleth says through gritted teeth. “But I think I’ll need a hand making it to dinner.” 

“I’ll fetch help! P-please don’t go anywhere!” And with that she runs out of the room.

 _How would I go anywhere else?_ Byleth exerts an inordinate amount of effort to prop herself up against the bed-frame. _And now I wait for whatever poor guard she wrangled into helping me. If Sothis could see me now!_

The servant eventually returns, with an older woman in tow. She’s dressed in sleek gold armor, in sharp contrast to her severe face and red eyes. _Wait, I know her…_

“We’ve met before,” she and Byleth say at the same time. Both of their eyes open wide in surprise. The other woman turns to the young servant. “You’ve done a good job. Now go get some rest, and I’ll take it from here.” Byleth also gives her an encouraging smile, and the serving girl nods, then leaves. 

“You’re her majesty’s old teacher.” The older woman is staring directly at Byleth, as if the floor-ridden woman could pose a threat. “We met at the siege of Garreg Mach.” 

Byleth grins. “Met is a polite way of saying it. We traded blows that day.” _I still have the scar you gave me._ She gestures towards herself. “I’m Byleth, but everyone I know calls me Professor.” 

The other woman returns the smile, and visibly relaxes. “I’m General Ladislava.” She gives a small bow. “I have the honor of leading her majesty’s personal guard.” She steps closer and kneels next to the professor. “I was told you needed some help. An injury acting up?” 

“Something like that. But you needn’t concern yourself; you’re far too high in rank for something as simple as helping me get to dinner.” Byleth wonders how that kid managed to find a general so easily. “Any ordinary guard will do.” 

“Nonsense,” Ladislava says as she slips an arm under Byleth’s legs, then another across her back. “I keep the same duties as the rest of my men. Anything that’s good enough for them is good enough for me.” With a single fluid motion she lifts Byleth up, now holding her fully in her arms. 

The walk is slow and uneventful. Occasional passing guards salute Ladislava, but otherwise they are uninterrupted. Despite the general’s deliberately slow pace, the odd step sends shockwaves through Byleth’s wound to the rest of her body. Ladislava notices her wincing. 

“Put your arms around my neck. It’ll take the pressure off your abdomen.” Byleth does so, and even though the side of her face is pressed against the top of the general’s breastplate, her wound at least stops complaining. 

“You’ve dealt with this before.” 

“I was a bit of a trouble-maker in my youth, growing up in the Enbarr slums. Had to learn to take care of any injuries I stupidly inflicted on myself.” 

Byleth is surprised to hear this. “And now you’re a general in Edelgard’s army.” 

Ladislava flashes her a smile. “Funny how life turns out, huh? Though I doubt I need to tell you that.” 

_Maybe you should. I can hardly believe it myself some days._

—

“Edelgard, I can tell you’re mad at me.” 

The emperor looks at Byleth from across the small table. Low-burning candlelight is reflected in her violet eyes, making her corneas appear aflame. She’s wearing a similar dress and cape as before, but interlaid with black trimmings around the edges. Her hair is done back up in those elaborate twin buns, the gold crown encircling her head. 

“No Professor, I’m not mad at you. I’m _furious_ at you.” 

_Well, I can hardly blame her._ “Is this because of the whole Ladislava thing? I told you, she was just being helpful.” Edelgard had been visibly shocked when the professor was carried in and gently deposited onto the chair across from her. 

“General Ladislava is one of my most decorated commanders. I’m beyond proud that she took the time to help someone that needed it.” She gestures at Byleth with an accusing finger. “You, on the other hand, decided it was a good idea to lie to me about the severity of your injury.” 

“I didn’t want you to worry about me.” 

Edelgard snorts at this. “And yet now I have to worry about you even more. Professor, I’m trying to help you recover from a wound I inflicted on you. Let me be concerned for your health.” 

Byleth is silent as she processes her words. _I don’t think it’s fair to make you worry, especially now. But…_ “I’m sorry, Edelgard. You’ve been nothing but trusting towards me. It wouldn’t hurt if I trusted you more too.” 

Her expression softens. “I know that our current situation isn’t easy on either of us. Especially considering what happened five years ago…” Her mouth contorts into something of a sardonic half-smile. “I was the one who shattered the trust we had built up. The responsibility is on me to repair that.” 

“No,” Byleth says as she shakes her head. “It works both ways. If you’re willing to trust me this much, I can do the same.” _Though I wonder, what does mending our relationship actually entail? Is it even possible to go back to how things were?_

And now Edelgard gives her a stern look. “Good. Because if you decide to lie to me like that again, I’ll have you chained to one of Manuela’s infirmary beds for the duration of your recovery.” 

“Sometimes it’s really hard to tell if you’re joking or not.” 

A semi-smile. “It’s better that way. I’d be a pretty poor captor if you didn’t at least believe some of my threats.” 

—

The rest of dinner passes in relative silence. The two share bread, soup and stir-fried vegetables. Despite the simplicity of the meal, Byleth finds it absolutely delicious. _Though I guess I haven’t eaten in over five years._

“Edelgard, that was really good. Thank you.” For a moment, Byleth almost feels like they are back at Garreg Mach, sharing a meal together in the dining hall. 

“I’m glad you think so, my teacher. I must admit, food tastes much better when you have someone to share it with.” 

“Hubert makes for a poor dinner partner I imagine.” Byleth is amazed at how easy it is to fall back into familiar conventions and behavior. _I could almost believe nothing has changed._

“That would imply he eats at all. I’m convinced he’s some sort of nocturnal creature, needing only the moonlight for sustenance.” Edelgard’s expression betrays nothing, but her eyes twinkle with amusement. 

“Oh, is that why he dresses the part now too?” 

Edelgard appears surprised by the remark. “You saw Hubert?” _Oops. Better tread carefully._

“He paid me a visit earlier.” 

“Hmmm. I can’t imagine that was very pleasant.” 

Byleth shakes her head. “It wasn’t that awful. We had a respectful conversation, and he gave me a lot to think about.” _Well, it was more like a lecture, but still…_

“I see.” Edelgard appears thoughtful. “Perhaps we should finally have a conversation of our own.” She takes a bottle sitting nearby and uncorks it. “But first, would you care for some wine?”

“Only a little bit.” Even though Byleth hadn’t asked, Manuela had made it clear that she was allowed to drink alcohol, so long as it was in moderation. “It’s good for the heart,” she had said. “A little too good sometimes.” 

Edelgard pours a small amount in a glass and hands it to Byleth, then pours a larger amount for herself. They both take a sip, then several more. 

“Now, I imagine we both have a lot to say to each other, so I think the easiest way to make this work would be to take turns. One of us will ask a question or make a statement, the other will respond, and then they can do the same.” 

“That makes sense,” Byleth says. _She’s clearly been thinking about this._

Edelgard sets her glass down, the blood-red wine sloshing as she does. “Then I’ll start.” She directs her gaze straight at Byleth. “Where have you been these last five years?” 

“Asleep,” Byleth answers, with no hesitation. Edelgard raises an eyebrow. 

“Professor, this doesn’t work if you don’t answer me honestly.” 

Byleth stares at her, not breaking off eye contact. _I’m going to let her figure this one out on her own._

“Come on, tell me the truth.” Edelgard is only met with more silence and staring. “Unless… you are?” Now Byleth responds with a small nod. “But… asleep for five years?” She scratches her head, her brows furrowed in confusion. “But that isn’t…” She looks shocked. “The power of the goddess?” Byleth gives her an even bigger nod. “Very well, I suppose I must believe you.” 

“I have no reason to lie to you, Edelgard. My turn then.” Byleth thinks it over for a second. “Alright, here’s my question: Where are the rest of the Black Eagles?” 

And now Edelgard’s expression turns dim, the light momentarily fleeing her eyes. “Gone. Scattered to the winds like a bird that’s left the nest.” She finishes the rest of her drink in one swallow. 

“They didn’t stay?” 

“They returned to the Empire, and some even served me for a time…” Edelgard doesn’t meet Byleth’s eyes. “But one by one, they all moved on. Five years is a long while to exist in uncertainty, and they had their own lives to live.” There is a lingering sense of loss in the air, and like the ghost of a premonition, Byleth knows what her next words will be. “It wasn’t the same without you, my teacher. I’m loathe to admit it, but… the Black Eagles needed you to hold them together. I wasn’t enough.” 

“Oh Edelgard…” 

“Please don’t pity me, Professor. I knew that the cost of my ambitions would include those closest to me.” 

“And am I someone you would consider close?” 

“Perhaps five years ago, but now? I don’t know if I can say.” 

Byleth shakes her head. “That’s not a proper response. What was it you said, that this only works if you answer honestly?” 

This manages to get a guilty smile out of the emperor. “You’re right, I’m being unfair.” She takes a breath. “To put it simply… yes. You are one of the few people I have left that I consider close to me.” Now her smile turns self-mocking. “Ironic, isn’t it? Only days ago I thought we would be trying to kill each other, and I nearly did.” 

“It brought me back to you, didn’t it?” _And thank the goddess for that. I owe you, Sothis._  


“I suppose that leads me to my next question.” Now it’s Edelgard’s turn to gaze into Byleth’s eyes, not breaking off contact. “Why?” 

“That’s rather vague.” 

“Don’t be coy. You know what I’m asking you.” 

Byleth nods, then drains the rest of her cup for courage. “Because despite what happened.. What you did, what I did… I still see you as Edelgard, the student that likes carnations, enjoys tea, and blushes when she’s given praise for a job well done.” As much as she tries to hide it, Edelgard’s face flushes slightly upon hearing this. 

“And what of Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg, the girl who set Fódlan aflame with war? Do you feel the same way about her?” 

“I don’t know her.” _Stop throwing up walls every time I try and close the distance._ “I only know you.” 

“Then you might very well be a fool, my teacher. There aren’t two Edelgard’s. There is just me.” And the emperor falls silent, as if she had delivered her own death sentence. 

“Do you want me to hate you?” Byleth gently inquires. 

It takes a few moments, but Edelgard eventually shakes her head. ’No, I don’t. But I do view it as an inevitability.” Her words are delivered not with malice or venom, but with a quiet despair. _She isn’t even talking about me anymore._

“I don’t.” Byleth isn’t sure exactly how best to articulate her own thoughts. Her feelings for the emperor were scattered and contradictory, a mess of relief and fear, regret and optimism. So Byleth does the only thing she can think of, and reaches over, placing her hand on top of Edelgard’s. “I don’t want to hate you.” 

She looks in surprise at the hand encompassing hers. Her eyes shimmer, and the ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of her lips. “Five years. It’s been five years and I’m still very much the same insecure little girl as I was back then.” 

“And I’m still the same nosy professor who can’t help but get involved in her student’s lives.” 

Now Edelgard gives her the first genuine smile of the evening. _How I missed that._ “And how do I know you aren’t just saying all this to earn my favor? You are still my prisoner, or had you forgotten?” 

As if in response, Byleth’s wound flares up, but she doesn’t let it alter her own smile. “Oh, I haven’t. It’s just that between the private bedroom and the candle-lit dinner, I hardly feel like I’m being mistreated.” 

And Edelgard laughs, though Byleth can hear the guilt that strains her voice. 

—

“Are you sure about this?” 

“And let you go off on your own after what happened last time?” Edelgard’s words are stern, like she’s scolding a child. _Why am I reminded of a certain green-haired deity?_

Byleth does feel like a child, but that’s mostly because she’s currently being held and carried in the arms of Adrestia’s emperor. Edelgard had insisted that she take Byleth back to her room, despite her initial protests. 

“You’re my responsibility, and I’d rather not pull a guard from their patrol.” 

_That’s not much of a reason._ But Byleth found herself admitting it wasn’t that bad. Edelgard’s grip is gentle, and with her arms around the ruler’s neck, Byleth is pressed close to her. She feels the warmth radiating from Edelgard’s face, and can see that hers is just as flushed. 

“Professor,” Edelgard says, staring straight ahead. She’s apparently taking the long way to Byleth’s room, and they pass by the open gardens. Moonlight falls across her features, and for a moment Byleth forgets that she doesn’t have a heartbeat of her own, and what she’s hearing isn’t hers. “There’s something I forgot to tell you.” 

_Uh oh, that sounds serious._ “Yes, Edelgard?” 

Her eyes quickly flit in Byleth’s direction, then correct itself. “I just wanted to say… that outfit looks good on you, my teacher.” Her cheeks burn as red as her cape. 

“Oh. Thank you.” Byleth wants to ask if she was the one who selected it, but feels as if she already knows the answer to that. Instead her body presses closer, as if by instinct. Edelgard makes no mention of it, but her hands tighten slightly. “I like your regalia; its a step up from the monastery uniform.” The emperor hums in response. 

When they reach the room, Edelgard carefully lowers her onto the bed. Before Byleth can say anything, Edelgard raises a finger between the two of them, as if she is about to lecture the former teacher. 

“Will you promise not to push yourself from now on?” 

Byleth pretends to think it over. “I can’t make any promises…” 

Now Edelgard frowns, and her eyes narrow in displeasure. “Byleth, don’t joke around. Promise me.” 

_She used my name. She never does that._ Byleth nods, a guilty expression etched on her face. “I promise.” 

“Good.” Edelgard turns, making her way to the door. 

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Byleth asks. Now that the first day is over, she realizes she is completely unsure of where things go from here. 

Edelgard give her a questioning smile. “Would you like that?” 

“I would.” 

“I would as well. There are some meetings I must attend first, but I’ll make time for you.” And with that, she reaches for the door, opening it. She glances back at Byleth. “Good night, my teacher.” 

“Good night Edelgard.” As the emperor exits the room and closes the door, Byleth thinks on their words from that evening. _She saved the harshest ones for herself. Despite everything, we can still be open with each other._ And for a moment, Byleth forgets her present circumstances. 

But then she hears the sound of the door lock behind Edelgard, and the illusion shatters. 

After all, a gilded cage is still a cage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly longer chapter this time around. 
> 
> And I will be damned if I don't include Ladislava. She deserved more screen time.


	4. Lock and Key

Byleth has always hated hospitals. She’s no stranger to injury and death, but there’s something about the nature of the place that sets her on edge. When wounded during her mercenary days she had relied on her own field knowledge to patch herself up; putting one’s life in the hands of another made her uncomfortable. Though this had changed during her stint as a teacher, the sterile rooms and halls of a medical ward still reminded her of that time. 

But she had to admit that Manuela was a good enough physician to drive away most of her worries. The older woman was calm and gentle, describing her actions in a smooth singsongy voice that kept her patients informed and involved. 

“You know, most people I deal with tend to squirm and complain the whole time, so you are quite the welcome change, Professor.” Manuela was currently rubbing antiseptic onto Byleth’s wound, and while the sensation is between a sting and a burn, the professor doesn’t react. She’s felt worse. 

“And who do you usually treat?” 

“The emperor,” Manuela says with a wink, causing Byleth to giggle. 

Finishing up the treatment, Manuela wipes off her hands and then starts to apply new bandages around Byleth’s stomach. Several stitches had broke the previous evening, and she had been chewed out thoroughly by the physician over it. 

“Manuela, I never quite found out how you ended up here. Did Edelgard recruit you?” Byleth sits up on the examination table, pulling her shirt back on. 

“Recruit? Ha, she wishes!” Manuela laughs, as if the notion was ridiculous. “When I came back to Enbarr after the battle, I marched right up to her door and demanded a meeting. I told her that if she was going to start a war, she better damn well be sure she has enough doctors to heal the injured and save the dying. And since it was technically her fault that I was out of a job, I made it very clear that she owed me one.” There’s a proud glint in her eyes. “After a few years I had worked my way up to being the royal physician.” 

Byleth smiles at this. Despite the songstresses’s more apparent flaws, Byleth had always admired her, especially how multi-talented she was. 

“Alright, that should be enough.” Manuela steps back and admires her handiwork. “Provided you don’t go and tear yourself open again.” 

_I’m pretty sure Edelgard would actually lock me in a cell if I did._ “Don’t worry, I learned my lesson.” And she had, readily accepting Manuela’s offer to be warped to the infirmary for a check-up. 

“I’ll have to believe you on that one.” Manuela now takes a seat in a comfortable looking chair across from her patient. “So Professor, it’s certainly been a while since we could chat like this. Feel up for some girl talk?” 

Byleth had never been one for overly girlish things; the notion of gender-coded norms and traditions still confused her. But she did enjoy Manuela’s company, and was happy to oblige. 

“I’d love to.” _I hope I don’t regret asking this._ “Have you been seeing anyone?” 

Manuela gives a soft self-deprecating laugh. “I’ve dated off and on, but nothing’s stuck so far. You’d think that wartime would make people more desperate, but if anything, everyone’s even pickier!” 

“That’s a shame. They’re genuinely missing out.” 

“Sweet of you to say that, Professor.” Manuela sits back, staring intently at Byleth. There’s a spark in her eyes, as if she had just thought of something particularly devilish. “Say, how are things with Edelgard? I imagine there’s a lot to unpack, if you need to talk.” 

_Edelgard? What an abrupt change in topic too… Is she trying to imply something?_ “Things between us are, well, confusing. Sometimes it’s like nothing has happened, and then the next moment there’s a massive chasm I can’t cross.” Byleth only realizes now how frustrated she actually is. Being straightforward had always been her way of dealing with personal conflict, but it didn’t work when the other person was deliberately walling her off. 

“Well that’s understandable. You and her were always so close, even early on. This must hurt.” Manuela’s tone is soft and concerning, and Byleth realizes how adept she is at this. “I have no reason to believe otherwise, but has she been treating you properly? You may be a special case, but there are certain standards one is expected to adhere to.” 

_You mean with prisoners of war?_ “I’m hardly being tortured, if that’s what you’re asking. Unless the definition changed to include dinner together.” She describes her evening to the physician, including Ladislava, the candlelight, the food and the conversation over wine. She left out the part where Edelgard had carried her to bed; that felt personal. 

Manuela laughs at the description. “And here I thought she might yell at you a bit. I didn’t expect a date instead.” Byleth’s face grows slightly red at the mention of the word _date_. Manuela notices and waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, ignore me dear. I’m just projecting.” But her eyes and smile said otherwise. 

—

When Byleth had woken up that morning, the first thing she did was check the door. Locked. So she sat in bed until a guard had unlocked the door and entered, carrying a tray laden with breakfast food. Her favorites in fact; oatmeal with cinnamon sprinkled on top, sliced apples and several pieces of toasted bread. She eagerly accepted, and noticed that the guard didn’t lock the door behind him. _What’s your game Edelgard? It’s unlike you to be so indecisive._

After that was her check-up with Manuela, which had ended without any major incidents, though she hadn’t been wholly comfortable with the former songstress’s suggestive comments about her and Edelgard. 

So now she sat in a small garden across from the infirmary, her cane and a satchel of concoctions at her side. The flowers were in full bloom; sunflowers and tulips, peony and forget-me-nots. And in the corner, a bed of red carnations. Lowering herself to her knees, Byleth begins to absentmindedly pull on the small weeds that were sprouting up. _This takes me back._ Gardening at the monastery had always been a favorite pastime of hers, especially when her students helped. 

“Professor?” A voice drifts in from behind Byleth. Turning around, she sees Edelgard and Hubert standing behind her. 

“Good morning you two.” Byleth brushes off her hands and stands up; she finds it much easier this time around. She gives them a warm smile. 

“How was your check-up?” Hubert’s tone is surprisingly friendly and light. He’s holding a large stack of papers in one gloved hand. 

“Manuela says so long as I actually take it easy this time, I should be fine.” She glances at Edelgard. “And yes, I’m keeping my promise.” 

“My teacher, I haven’t even had a chance to speak yet.” But her smile is good-natured. “I am glad to hear that, however.” 

“Your majesty, I think I’ll go ahead and take care of the matter we discussed.” Hubert taps the papers. “You and the Professor should enjoy yourselves.” And with that he walks off. 

“Is Hubert unwell?” Byleth looks at Edelgard in shock. “I could have sworn he just suggested we _enjoy ourselves_ , and without any sarcasm either.” 

She smirks. “Believe it or not, but he is occasionally capable of being reasonable.” She gestures at the garden. “Falling back into familiar habits?” 

“I suppose so. I’m not really sure what else I should be doing.” That hadn’t been a problem when Byleth was only the Ashen Demon, who needed no goals or passion; only a sword and someone to use it on. 

“Ah.” Edelgard reaches down and gently brushes some dirt from a nearby flower-petal. When she turns back to Byleth, her expression is familiar neutrality. “I guess I need to find something for you to occupy your time with.” 

“I could teach,” Byleth suggests. “Only the theoreticals at first, but once I’m better I could transition to actual field training. I imagine you have enough officers to fill a class.” 

“I… you’re serious, aren’t you?” Edelgard raises a hand to cover her mouth, but Byleth still sees the edges of her smile. “Once a teacher always a teacher, huh?” But then the smile drops, and she’s back to normal. “But that would be incredibly inappropriate of me.” 

“How so?” 

“Because I am still holding you here against your will. And I don’t want you involved in my war effort since you’ve already made your stance clear.” 

“I don’t think me teaching a few cadets would would really count as me fighting for you.” 

“Then you underestimate your worth and skill as an instructor.” Edelgard gives Byleth a look that easily reads as _end of discussion._ “I’ll find something else for you to do.” 

Byleth shrugs. “You’re in charge.” 

“Yes, I suppose I am.” Edelgard puts her hands on her hips. “Funny how things change, isn’t it?” Byleth is immediately reminded of what Ladislava had told her yesterday. _No wonder those two get along so well._

“Are you implying I was ever in charge of you?” 

An eyebrow raises. “You were my professor.” 

“And you were the Imperial princess. I’m fairly certain you outranked me on any social ladder.” 

“Most of your students outranked you. And yet when you asked them to do something, they did it, with enthusiasm. It didn’t matter that you were a commoner and they the nobility. We were all equals at Garreg Mach.” 

“I see.” And then it clicks into place for Byleth. “That’s the type of society you want to create.” 

Edelgard nods, with a hint of enthusiasm. “Exactly. One where the circumstances of an individuals birth do not determine their merit. In fact, I’m planning on getting rid of birthright as a means of acquiring power and political office.” 

“And does that include you as well?” But Byleth had a feeling she knew the answer to this one already. 

“Of course. In fact…” Edelgard’s expression turns serious. “I already have plans made for this.” She gestures to herself. “Before you stands Edelgard, the last von Hresvelg emperor. When my war is won, and my ideals are realized, I will pass the throne to a worthy individual, based on their merit and skill. I will deliberately destroy my families’s thousand-year dynasty if it means creating the type of world I envision.” 

_Of course you will. You were never the type to take half-measures on anything, were you?_ But now Byleth is uncertain. _It seems like you always had everything figured out… so why did you need me? Why am I the one you always make an exception for?_

_What do I mean to you, Edelgard?_

—

“You know, you haven’t actually told me where you’re taking me.” 

Though Byleth really doesn’t mind. Edelgard had wanted to show her something, but since it was at the other end of the palace, she once again insisted on carrying the injured professor. It must have made for an odd sight, to see the emperor holding the older and taller woman in her arms. But Byleth didn’t complain. There was something very comforting about being this close to Edelgard. 

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I just told you.” 

“You’ll have to excuse me, but you don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to surprises.” 

Their destination ends up being a quiet corner far from the hustle and bustle. In an alcove to the side, a statue of a man in armor stands tucked away. His head is adorned with a crown depicting a double-headed eagle. He carries a book in one hand, and an axe in the other. 

Edelgard gently puts Byleth on her feet, and for a second it almost feels like neither wants to break off physical contact. But the moment passes, and the two stand side-by-side. 

“This is Wilhelm von Hresvelg, the founder of the Empire and first emperor. He worked together with Seiros to defeat Nemesis.” Her brow furrows. “Supposedly, anyway. The history the Church puts forth is hardly accurate, at least compared to what I’ve been told.” 

“I suppose you must have fairly mixed feelings about him.” 

She chuckles. “You could say that. Most of the traditions and systems I seek to change can be traced back to the founding of the Empire. In a way, I’m personally destroying his legacy.” Her eyes fix themselves on her ancestor, and she reaches out and touches the blade of the axe. “But I suppose that was inevitable. All progress is created by destroying the old and doing away with the unjust. Maybe he would hate me for it. Perhaps he would be proud.” She turns to Byleth. “It matters not. I do not concern myself with the opinions of dead men.” 

_No, only with the living. Mine especially._ “But that’s not why you brought me here, is it?” 

The corners of her mouth twitch slightly upwards. “Nothing gets past you, does it? You’re right.” She brings her hands together and wrings them, a sign Byleth had figured out early on indicated nervousness. “Go ahead. Let’s get this over with.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” _Yes I do._

“Hmmmm…” Edelgard examines Byleth, her gaze seemingly attempting to pierce through the older woman’s facade. “Fine, if you’re unwilling to engage with me over this. But will you at least listen to what I have to say?” 

A nod. 

Edelgard stares straight at Byleth, her expression a mix of conviction and wavering resolve. She takes a deep breath, then speaks. “When my family was taken from me, all those years ago, I almost fell into complete despair. At times, it seemed like giving up was the easiest option. But when my second crest manifested, I swore that I would never again allow myself to experience such pain and vulnerability. I’ve done everything I can to ensure that I am always the one in control, that I have power over myself and others don’t.” Her eyes narrow, and Byleth can see the fire burning inside. “I will never again wear chains.” 

But then the flame fades, and Edelgard’s expression returns to normal. “But you… you are something I did not anticipate. A rogue variable whose actions I cannot predict nor control. You defy logic, Professor.” She gives a sad smile. “Even now, when you’re supposedly in my custody, I feel as though you still have the upper hand.

“And that’s what scares me. That I don’t have as much control as I believe I do. And you, Professor, represent that lack of control better than anything.” Her hand brushes dust off Wilhelm’s book, revealing the crest of Seiros. “I… I am surrounded by those I cannot trust. Well-wishers and sycophants who care only of the power and wealth I can bring them. Vile creatures that slither in the dark, masquerading as my allies. Even my most loyal servant hides the truth from me.” Her smile lingers, but Byleth can see it struggles to remain. “So in a way, you are one of the only people I can actually be honest with, and expect to be honest right back.

“And if that doesn’t sum up the sad irony that is my life, than I don’t know what does.” Edelgard finally drops the smile. “That wasn’t an excuse, by the way. It’s an apology.” She reaches into a pocket of her dress and pulls out a small brass key. She cups it with both hands, then extends her arms out towards Byleth. When the professor reciprocates the gesture, she drops the key onto her open palms. 

“That’s the key to your room.” She takes both of her hands, gently putting one over Byleth’s, then another under. “I’ve let so much of my life be dictated and ruled by paranoia and distrust. I think…I think I need to learn to let go.” Removing her hands from Byleth’s, she takes a step back, and tilts her head down slightly. “Please, my teacher. Forgive me.”

Byleth examines the key for a moment before casually tossing it out the nearest open window. There’s a soft _clanging_ sound as it strikes some hard surface. 

“I… what?!” Edelgard appears to be in complete shock, her eyes turned to circular orbs and her mouth hanging open. 

Byleth shrugs. “I refuse your apology. If you think you’ve done something wrong, simply don’t do it again. I don’t need a symbol of that.” 

And for the first time that Byleth has ever seen, Edelgard throws her fists to the side and stomps her feet. And she pouts. _Pouts! I’ve never seen her pout before!_ “Byleth Eisner, you are the single most infuriating woman I have ever met!” And although she looks upset, there’s relief etched all across her face. “I try so hard to throw you off and gain the upper hand, but you go and turn this into a teachable moment!” She puts a hand to her flustered face. “I swear… why did it have to be you?” 

“Why did it have to be me what?” Byleth tilts her head in curiosity. 

Edelgard’s face turns bright red, and she takes a sudden interest in a spot next to Byleth’s head. “Nothing! You must have misheard me.” She shakes her hand dismissively. “Go back to your room or something.” 

“You brought me here.” 

The sight of the emperor carrying the former mercenary through the palace with a face as red as the Valley of Torment became the subject of much gossip in the Imperial court for quite some time thereafter. 

—-

Later that evening, when the pale moon hangs overhead, Byleth finds she is unable to sleep. Grabbing her cane, she lifts herself out of bed, noting how much easier it is becoming. She walks up to the door, and without hesitation, throws it open. 

Making her way to the small garden from earlier, she’s struck by how peaceful and quiet everything is. Only her footsteps echo in these empty halls. When she reaches the garden, she lowers herself onto a bench, taking in the serenity of the flowers under the moonlight. 

And she thinks of Edelgard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~I'm going to be honest, writing this chapter was frustrating. I rewrote large parts of it multiple times, and while I'm decently satisfied now, I understand that it isn't as perfect as I would like. If there are parts that feel awkward, rushed or even just plain awful, I apologize. I promise there's more interesting things to come.~~
> 
> Thank you to everyone for all the wonderful and supportive comments. This teaches me to write a note when I'm feeling kinda bleh. Thank you again!


	5. Troubled Waters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor Content Warning: This chapter contains some description of Edelgard's injuries and scarring. While I don't believe it's too detailed or graphic, I'd like to give a heads up anyway.

“Professor, surely you have other ways to spend your time. Or other people to bother.” Hubert’s eyes glare at Byleth from above the paper he is trying to read. 

The former teacher is sitting on the edge of the minister’s desk, casually kicking her legs up and down. She attempts to sneak a peek at the Imperial secrets listed on a document, but he hurriedly pulls it away. 

“Again, I understand you’re bored and anxious, but for the love of the goddess, can you find some other way to express it?” 

Byleth hops onto the floor with a guilty smile and a small flourish. “Sorry Hubert. I just feel like we haven’t spent enough time together as of late.” 

He grumbles into his feather quill pen. “I think we spend an appropriate amount of time together.” Trying to resume his writing fails, as he continuously looks up at Byleth’s large blue eyes staring at him. “Well Professor, since I have the absolute pleasure of having you in my company, perhaps I could interest you in a drink?” His voice drips with sarcasm, but Byleth does what she always did back in the academy - ignore it. 

“That would be lovely.” She slides into the seat across from him. To Hubert’s credit he only groans inwardly, but still reaches over and grabs two cups. Using a small amount of flame magic, he lights a kettle hanging by the desk, and pours some brown granules from a bag onto thin pieces of paper, which he then places over the cups. After the kettle signals the water is boiled, he pours it over. Byleth watches in fascination. “Hubert, is that coffee?” 

“Indeed.” He removes the paper and remaining wet coffee grounds and disposes of them. “Would you care for any milk or sugar?” 

“A tiny bit of both.” Hubert adds a sugar cube to one of the cups, and a small helping of milk, then stirs. He hands the cup to Byleth. She notices that he takes his coffee without anything added. 

“Hmmm.” Byleth inhales deeply, taking in the scent. She knew Hubert preferred the beverage over tea, but she had never tried it herself. _It smells so bitter!_ She takes a sip and almost scalds her tongue. Hubert smirks and takes a large drink without hesitating. 

Byleth puts the cup down, deciding to let the coffee cool before she accidentally burns herself again. “So Hubert, these coffee beans come from Dagda, right?” 

He nods. “Yes, they are a delicacy by Fódlan standards. I typically import them, but as of late…” He picks up the bag he had taken the ground beans from. Byleth notices that the material is soft and delicate, accented with a ribbon wrapped around the cloth. Almost like a gift. “That sentimental fool insists on sending me some,” Hubert continues. He chuckles and shakes his head. “I haven’t seen the man in almost two years, and yet a pouch of the highest quality ground coffee finds its way to my door each month.” 

“Hubert, that’s amazing!” Byleth excitedly leans forward. “Does that mean that you and Ferdi-” But he cuts her off with a dark scowl. 

“Professor, please. I harbor no ill will towards him, but that man is no longer a part of my life, and I would like to be able to move on.” 

“And yet you accept his gifts.” 

Hubert falls silent, and stares longingly at the bag sitting on the desk. “It appears I do, yes. Perhaps the sentimental fool is me.” Then he coughs loudly, and shuffles some of his papers together. 

“I apologize for that, Professor. It is unbecoming of me to get so emotional.” He attempts to take a sip of his coffee, but realizes the cup is already empty. “Lady Edelgard will be back at some point today. I have an infinite amount of work to finish before she returns. And unless you want to help me figure out the Imperial household expenditure reports, your time is better spent elsewhere.” 

The two stare at each other. 

“That means get out, Byleth.” 

—

Without anything else to do, Byleth decides to go for some fresh air. She walks through the main palace hallway, passing visiting nobles and dignitaries. A few glance at her brilliant green hair, but most ignore her, as she’s seemingly not important enough to pay attention to. She’s taken her cane with her, and although she’s been needing it less, Manuela made it clear that one accident could be all it takes to make her effectively bed-ridden again. 

In truth, Byleth can’t help but be nervous, and hopes a walk will help. It’s been almost a week since Edelgard had left on official business, and Byleth feels a growing ache in her chest with each passing day. 

_What is wrong with me?_ She tries to focus her thoughts elsewhere, but her mind wanders back to the emperor at the slightest provocation. Wondering what Edelgard is doing, if she’s okay, when she’ll get back… 

Byleth is so lost in her pondering that she doesn’t notice she’s walked through the large palace doors until the wooden shaft of a spear blocks her path. She glances at the guard holding it. 

“Sorry miss, but the Emperor gave us strict orders. You aren’t allowed to leave the main palace interior.” He gives an apologetic smile. Byleth nods and turns around. 

_Glad to see she hasn’t gone completely soft._ She isn’t upset; the professor knows that Edelgard has to draw the line somewhere. So she decides to take a trip to the palace rooftop, where one can supposedly see most of Enbarr. 

Climbing the stairs is brutal, even with her cane. Every step sends a lightning bolt of pain through her entire body, but she persists. _It also doesn’t help that I’m a little out of shape. Five years of sleep will do that._ Ladislava had offered to spar with her when she was recovered, but Byleth was hesitant about the idea. The thought of picking up a sword made her uneasy. 

Reaching the roof, she takes in the crisp afternoon air. Now that she’s outside, she can hear the faint drone of the city in the distance, see the flicker of evening lampposts being lit. The Ashen Demon had never cared for such things, but Byleth has a newfound appreciation for these simple pleasures. 

She approaches the edge of the roof, and wonders if she can see the Mittlefrank Opera Company from there. _Maybe I can convince Edelgard to take me sometime._ But she quickly dashes the thought - there was no use for such frivolity in war, and to think so far ahead only invited the possibility of a future filled with heartbreak. 

Before she could continue down this line of thinking, a distorted voice rings out from behind her. Whipping around, Byleth is confronted by a specter of the past she hadn’t ever expected to see again. 

“You…” The Death Knight repeats, his red eyes like orbs embedded in the reaper mask he wears. He clutches his scythe, and Byleth can see even through his pitch black armor that the man is tense, his gauntlet opening and closing in a semi-random pattern. 

Without a further word, he launches himself at her, his weapon slicing through the air. Years of training kick in and Byleth rolls out of the way. The protest of her injury reverberates across her torso and through her legs, but she is otherwise unharmed. His scythe rips through the space in front of her, and she dodges it by a hair’s length. 

In the few seconds before he tries again, Byleth debates her options. She is unarmed, but that doesn’t mean she can’t defend herself. Magic was never her strong suit, but she had picked up a few spells at the Officers Academy. A quick fireball might stall him for a moment, though she knew from experience that it wouldn’t keep him down for long.

She doesn’t get to try. The scythe reaps its way towards her head, and she drops to the floor to avoid it. In that instant she realizes her mistake; the Death Knight angles the weapon mid-swing, the blade screaming towards her helpless body. 

It never connects. Byleth gazes up at the tip of the scythe inches from her face. The Death Knight’s mask comes into focus. 

“The Sword of the Creator. Where is it? Why do you not wield it?” His voice is labored, even under the distortion. 

“Heh. I don’t have it.” Byleth struggles to speak, her body panting heavily from the exertion of avoiding instantaneous death. “Edelgard confiscated it from me.” She feels a bolt of pain sear its way through her side, and she clutches at her wound. It hurts, but when she pulls her hand away there’s no blood. _Thank Sothis. If opening my wound again didn’t kill me, Edelgard would._

“Grrrrr,” the Death Knight growls, but to Byleth’s surprise he pulls back, his scythe falling to his side. The two stare at each other for a moment before he turns around. ”You make for unsporting prey.” He stalks towards the stairs. “Next time we meet, one of us will fall.” And then he’s gone. 

_What the hell just happened?!_

—

“I really can’t leave you alone, can I?” 

Byleth opens her eyes. White hair falls loosely above her face while violet eyes stare down at her. There’s the sensation of something soft, and she realizes that her head is resting on the lap of Emperor Edelgard. 

“You’re back,” she says, as if that wasn’t already the most obvious statement in the world. 

“I am, my teacher.” The corners of Edelgard’s mouth turn up slightly. “And you’re still here.” 

Byleth wasn’t sure if she was referring to the roof or Enbarr in general. “Why would I be anywhere else?” Byleth asks. “I’m not allowed to leave.” 

The emperor gives a quiet laugh at that. “No, you aren’t. Still, I didn’t expect to find you sleeping out here on the rooftop. You had me worried.” 

Byleth groans as she feels the consequences of her earlier run-in catch up to her. “You can blame your subordinate for that.” She tries to raise her head from Edelgard’s lap but decides she’d rather leave it there. 

“Hmmmm,” Edelgard hums to herself, but her smile turns to a frown. “I apologize for his behavior. We had both thought the Death Knight was under control.” One of her hands brushes her loose hair out of the way. “He told me where to find you.” 

“Is he alright? Switching between personalities like that… that isn’t normal.” 

“No, he isn’t. Jeritza is a victim, both of his own mind and our crest system at large. The latter shaped the former, turning him into the man you see today.” She gazes reproachfully at the darkening sky. “If left alone the Death Knight would tear his way through Fódlan until he perishes. To keep him under control, I unleash him at my enemies. But this way, I’m really only enabling his destructive behavior.” 

_The alternative would be putting him down. And I feel as though he’s something of a kindred spirit for you, Edelgard._

“But enough about him.” Edelgard smiles at Byleth, and the ache in her heart vanishes, replaced by a similar, but far more pleasant sensation. “Should we go inside?” 

And now Byleth lifts her head and sits up. Edelgard is wearing her usual red and gold dress but with a travelers cloak draped over her shoulders. Looking closely, Byleth can see that the emperor’s clothes are wrinkled, her hair is messy, and there are smudges impressed on her face. 

“Edelgard, did you not take time to settle in?” 

She shakes her head. “No, I just got back and wanted to see you.” Upon realizing what she had just said, her face burns scarlet. 

Byleth beams at hearing that, and she hopes it distracts from her own blushing. “I would have preferred you didn’t find me like this.” Her own clothes are torn and dirty while the rest of her body is coated with perspiration from earlier. 

The two women help each other to their feet. “Why don’t we get cleaned up and meet back for tea?” Byleth likes the suggestion. 

“Perfect! Then you can tell me all about your trip.” 

Edelgard chuckles. “I assure you Professor, the details will bore you.” 

_The details might, but you won’t._

—

Byleth spends longer than she’d like to admit choosing an outfit. Alongside the Imperial dress shirts that Edelgard insisted were in fashion, she had also been given a new overcoat to replace the one the emperor had ruined. Colored both red and black with a distinct military aesthetic, Byleth found herself admiring how it looked on her. 

Folding the change of clothing into a neat stack and tucking it under one arm, she makes her way to the palace bathhouse. The women’s section is empty, and Byleth relishes the solitude. Edelgard and Hubert had told her that publicly she was known as the daughter of a minor noble from the Alliance border territories, in Enbarr to ensure her father’s loyalty to the Empire - a hostage. As such, most of the interactions she had with strangers consisted either of barely disguised pity or outright disgust. 

Desperate to soak herself in warm waters, Byleth quickly strips off her clothing, leaving it next to the fresh set she had brought. She grabs a towel and makes her way to the recessed pool of water embedded in the floor. Dipping a toe elicits a sigh of satisfaction; the temperature is just perfect. She leaves the towel on a railing and lowers herself into the bath. The feeling is heavenly. 

Floating out to the center of the water, Byleth closes her eyes and relaxes. For the first time in several days she manages to clear her mind; of worry and anxiety, of confusing emotions and stray thoughts of a certain someone. 

_Images flash by. The buildings of Garreg Mach. A classroom, adorned with the banner of the Black Eagles. The smiling faces of her students. Bernadetta. Petra. Caspar. Linhardt. Ferdinand. Dorothea. Hubert. Edelgard. Mid-morning training sessions in a dusty courtyard. Gathering for a mission._

The sound of the door opening interrupts her train of thought. Small footsteps fall on the bathhouse tiles. 

“Byleth?” 

She opens her eyes to see Edelgard. The young emperor stands without a hint of surprise, her body slightly turned to the side and one foot in front of the other. 

“Oh, hey Edel-” 

“What do you think you’re doing?” she interrupts, her tone exasperated. 

“Uh, taking a bath?” 

“By yourself?” Edelgard crosses her arms in front of her and taps a foot. “After you already passed out once today? That could be lethal.” 

_I’ll probably be fine so long as the Death Knight doesn’t attack me while I’m bathing. Though I wouldn’t put that past him…_ Byleth briefly contemplates telling Edelgard such, but decides to let her play the part of worried warden. “I suppose you’re going to keep an eye on me then?” 

“I suppose I am.” Despite her attitude, Byleth can see the concern in Edelgard’s eyes. She also notices that the other woman brought a change of clothes with her. “I needed a bath as well, so this works out.” 

_What a coincidence._ Byleth taps the water, inviting her in. 

There’s a few seconds of silence before Edelgard politely coughs. “Um, Professor, if you don’t mind… would you turn around?” 

_Ah._ Byleth does so without a word. She knows from experience that Edelgard is uncomfortable with certain aspects of her body; she always wore dresses and uniforms that covered almost every inch of exposed skin. And then there were the gloves, white during the academy days, now red and armored for wartime. 

She’s briefly reminded of her time at Garreg Mach. Byleth had no problem changing in front of the female Black Eagles, and the others quickly adopted the same attitude, even meek Bernadetta. All except for Edelgard, who always waited for everyone else to finish and leave. The professor had excused this behavior so as not to bring up what was most certainly a very personal issue. And after Edelgard’s late night confession about her twin crests, Byleth knew the true cause of her insecurity was far worse than she could have imagined. 

There’s the rustling of fabric as Edelgard removes her clothing. A moment later the sound of a gentle splash resonates behind Byleth. 

She turns around to see Edelgard almost completely submerged in the water, only the barest hints of her neck exposed. Without a word Byleth hands her a scrub brush, then turns to the side so she can give the emperor some privacy. The two clean themselves in silence, though Byleth can sense a wayward glance in her direction whenever she raises herself out of the water to reach certain spots. 

After some time, there’s a motion out of the corner of her eye, and Byleth observes Edelgard awkwardly attempt to bring the brush to her backside while staying concealed in the water. 

“Hey, would you like me to help you?” Byleth inquires, with what she hopes is a gentle tone. 

Edelgard freezes, her eyes expressing a sense of panic. She rapidly glances in every possible direction before settling on Byleth. The professor can see the turmoil festering there, and she realizes that it was similar to back in the days before she had revealed the truth of her past. But this time the doubt vanishes and resolve returns to Edelgard’s eyes. She looks at Byleth directly and nods. 

Byleth smiles reassuringly, making her way over. Edelgard turns around, and after a moment’s hesitation, partially rises out of the water, exposing herself. And Byleth’s motionless heart almost breaks in two. 

Twisted white-hot scars coil their way across her back, tearing up her skin. From small incisions to winding jagged cuts; some faded but no less brutal. There are marks that appear methodical and precise, and others that seem random and indiscriminate. One large scar gnarls its way from her shoulder to the small of her back, and Byleth mentally traces it in complete horror. It appears so deep, so inhumanely inflicted. The worst part, she thinks, is that the wounds are stretched in a way that declares their age, that these cruelties had been inflicted on someone who had yet to finish growing. 

Byleth takes a hand and places it on the middle of the largest scar. Edelgard’s shoulder flexes, but she doesn’t protest. Bringing her head close, the professor leans her forehead against the bottom of the emperor’s neck. 

“I’m so sorry Edelgard.” Her vision blurs for a brief second. “I’m so sorry,” she repeats in a whisper. Then she pulls away. 

Without a further word Byleth brings the brush to Edelgard’s back, and with gentle motions begins to wash up and down. She’s tense at first, but with every passing moment Edelgard appears to relax. Her head stays tilted downwards, and her breathing remains soft. Humming an old tune, Byleth matches her brushing to the rhythm. They exchange no utterances, only parallel thoughts. 

Eventually Byleth pulls back, giving the other woman space. She raises her head, and Byleth feels a nervous stone sink in her stomach. Neither speak, seemingly unsure of what to say. Instead, Edelgard turns around, and now Byleth fully understands. 

The rest of her body hadn’t been spared. Like a spider’s web, scars extend across her torso in a pattern of surgical precision. These scars are red like blood, as if they had been freshly inflicted. They run into and through each other, crossing in and around her chest, finally culminating in a large knot above her heart. 

Byleth feels a tear form below her eye, but Edelgard reaches a hand forward and wipes it away. She then grabs the brush and motions for the professor to turn around. Byleth does so, and now the emperor carefully washes her. 

And Byleth is sure she hears Edelgard hum the same tune. 

—

The two get dressed on opposite sides of the room, facing away from each other. Byleth quickly puts on her undergarments and slacks, then stops. She places her hand against the wall and leans forward. 

“Edelgard…” She isn’t really sure what to say. Feelings of nausea and grief cling to her, and she’s worried that she might slip to the floor. 

There’s a soft hand on her shoulder, and Byleth is slowly turned around. Edelgard stands there, and while her mouth contains only the ghost of a smile, her eyes show light and strength. 

“Such a sad expression doesn’t suit you, my teacher.” She migrates her hand to Byleth’s arm, gives a gentle squeeze, then pulls it away. “There’s no need to mourn on my behalf.” 

“It’s just…” Byleth shakes her head. “When I see those scars, I can’t help but think of what you went through… what that little girl went through.” 

“Then let them be a reminder, as I’ve made them for myself. But do not mourn for me, Professor.” Edelgard’s voice is soft, but strong, “Mourn for my father, who watched his children be taken from him. Mourn for my brothers and sisters, who never saw the light of day again. But I’m still here, and you must not grieve for the living.” 

“Is it so wrong of me to feel this way?” 

“Not at all. But the Edelgard that needed it is long gone.” 

“I…” But something in Edelgard’s expression makes her decide not to push further. “Hmm. You may be right, but you can’t stop me from worrying about you.” 

Edelgard smiles. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Then she gestures towards Byleth, averting her gaze slightly. “Now, are you going to put a shirt on, or will I need to order you to?” 

Byleth scrambles to obey. The two leave the bathhouse - and seemingly their tensions - behind. That is until they reach the break room, which is already occupied by a black-cloaked man. 

“Oh, Hubert. Are you joining us for tea?” Edelgard asks. 

He looks up, and Byleth is shocked by how pale he’s grown. His face is stricken with dread, something Byleth wasn’t sure she had ever seen before. 

“Your majesty.” He stands up and bows slightly, then straightens his back to its maximum height, which makes him tower above Edelgard. Despite this, Byleth can’t help but think he looks small in that moment. “I’m sorry, but we didn’t get any warning.” He grimaces. “He’s here.” 

“Hubert…” Edelgard is slow to respond, but tries to snap back to her composed self. “You don’t mean…?” 

“Aye,” Hubert nods, spitting the words like they are poison. “Your uncle, Lord Arundel, has just arrived. And he demands a meeting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Edelgard telling Byleth to put a shirt on was one of the hardest things she's ever had to do. 
> 
> I was worried about putting a "bath scene" in this story, but I believe I made it both tasteful and a good way to show development.


	6. The Storm

“This is a terrible idea, your majesty.” 

Edelgard sighs and places a gloved hand on the wooden table. Byleth sits at her side, while Hubert paces animatedly around the room. The conference room is small, tucked away in a remote corner of the palace. Perfect for last-minute scheming. 

“We’ve been over this. Play it however you like, but there is no chance we can keep her hidden from Arundel.” She opens and closes her palm, and Byleth can hear the small metallic creaking of the armor reinforcing it - a nervous gesture. “It will take one passing conversation with a guard or idle gossip with a servant, and his informants will alert him of our ‘guest’ from the Alliance. And it will take him less time than that to realize she isn’t who we say she is.” 

“So you’re suggesting we throw her to the wolves?” 

“Wolf, in this case. And you’re being awfully defensive of our dear professor here. Aren’t you usually the one to suggest exhausting every option?” Byleth finds it unusual that Edelgard is the calm one in this situation. 

Hubert scowls. “And what do you suppose _their_ reaction will be? I have no love for the progenitor god, but they absolutely despise her. And that we have her representative on earth…” 

“It won’t matter. She’s in my custody, and subsequently under my protection.” Edelgard turns to Byleth. “I’m sorry to talk as if you aren’t here, but there’s a lot of information I don’t have time to explain.” 

Byleth nods. She’d never met the Lord Regent, but knew about him from speaking with Edelgard back at the academy. _He’s the bastard that overthrew your father and turned him into nothing more than a puppet…_ “You can explain later. But the two of you are going to go in circles at this rate.” 

“You’re right.” Edelgard glances at both Hubert and the professor. “The truth is that he has us at a disadvantage, and you are our only trump card.” 

“I’ve made my case.” Hubert crosses his arms as he comes to a stop. “It’s always up to you, Lady Edelgard.” 

“Very well.” Edelgard fully turns to face Byleth. “It comes down to this: I want you to join me in my meeting with him. He doesn’t know you’re alive yet, and I believe your presence will be enough to throw him off guard. If we can play our cards right, I hope to be able to convince him I have you perfectly under my control.” She notices Byleth’s expression. “Don’t act so surprised. Our arrangement is rather unusual. I think most people would be skeptical.” 

“You want me to be a distraction?” 

“To put it bluntly, yes. But it’s more than that.” Drumming her fingers on the table causes Hubert to glance over at Edelgard, his eyes momentarily flashing with irritation. “It has always been my goal to keep the knowledge of your imprisonment a secret. Aside from myself and Hubert, only Manuela and Generals Ladislava and Jeritza know you are here. My uncle was always going to find out, but by choosing to reveal this information at our discretion, we gain an advantage that cannot be understated.” 

“But I don’t get a choice.” Byleth does her best to keep her voice neutral - she isn’t sure if this is something to be upset over. Not yet. 

Edelgard frowns, then nods. “This is the part where I’ll ask for your forgiveness, because you’re correct, you don’t get a choice.” She’s opening and closing her fists in sequence, and the moving and scraping of metal is almost rhythmic. “You’ve been beyond cooperative with me, so I hate to have to make demands, but this plan only works if everyone participates.” She brings the palms of her hands together, almost as if praying. “I’m sorry, my teacher.” 

Byleth waves her apology away with a dismissive gesture. “Wait until after we’ve had the meeting. If it’s a complete disaster, then I’ll accept your apology.” 

“Heh,” Edelgard smirks. “I knew you’d say something like that. Regardless, you’ll be safe with me. I made a promise that I’ll release you when this war is over, and I intend to keep it.” 

“Humph,” Hubert snorts from his corner of the room. “Even after all that has happened, the two of you are still thick as thieves.” 

Byleth and Edelgard glance at each other, then break out in matching grins. “You’re not jealous, are you Hubert? It’s unbecoming of you,” Edelgard teases. 

“As if,” he groans. “Since you have time to joke around, it seems like we might as well get this over with.” 

Edelgard nods. “Yes, I do believe we’ve done all we can. Send him in.” 

—

Volkhard Arundel is a harsh-looking man, Byleth thinks. His features are in sharp contrast to that of his niece, shallow and rough, though his black hair is expertly maintained, seemingly his only point of vanity. If it weren’t for the eyes, Byleth would never have been able to guess he shared blood with Edelgard. His are the same shade of purple, but unlike the emperor, she sees no light, only a boundless sea of cruelty. 

He folds his hands together, a false smile plastered on his face. Byleth and Edelgard sit across from him, the two of them close together. Both are tense, though each other’s presence helps to alleviate it somewhat. The professor has no idea as to what Edelgard is thinking, but keeps her own expression neutral and distant. It’s surprisingly easy to fall back into such familiar habits. 

_“Do you trust me, my teacher?”_ Edelgard had asked, shortly before their meeting began. 

There had been no hesitation. _”Of course.”_

_”Then no matter what I do or say, please follow my lead.”_

“Uncle,” Edelgard says as she breaks the silence. “While I always appreciate you checking up on me, a little warning would not be remiss. I feel as though I have neglected my duties as a host by not preparing properly.” 

Arundel leans forward, his demeanor seemingly friendly. His smile projects confidence, but it’s his eyes that betray his true intentions: cold and ruthless, like a snake evaluating its prey. He gestures with a single hand towards the emperor. 

“It’s good to see you too, my dear niece,” he says mockingly. “Though preparations are hardly necessary. I was simply in Enbarr for a spell, and decided to pass along some information.” 

“In-person? I’m sure one of your underlings would have sufficed in delivering anything I needed to know.” Edelgard’s voice is measured and neutral. 

He places a hand over his heart. “Oh Edelgard, you wound me. I would have thought an uncle doesn’t need a reason to visit the only family he has left.” His eyes shift towards Byleth. “But perhaps this worked out in my favor. It seems you’ve been keeping secrets of your own.” 

“I have hardly kept anything of importance from you. This is simply a… personal project.” 

“Hmmm.” Arundel doesn’t seem to believe her words. “I daresay that the survival of the Fell Star is indeed a matter of great importance. I was under the impression she had perished in the battle of Garreg Mach, fighting for the Church.” His attention is focused on Byleth as he speaks, and she can’t help but feel a chill run down her spine. _I’ve never met the man, so why does he feel so familiar?_

“You appear to have been grossly misinformed. While her reappearance is a recent development, it is one I have under control.” 

“That is hardly an excuse not to inform me of her defection.” 

Edelgard chuckles, though somewhat forcibly. “You believe she has defected? Again, you are mistaken.” Reaching over, she places a hand on top of Byleth’s head, as if petting a domesticated animal. “She’s mine.” 

_Yours? So this is how we’re playing it?_ But Byleth feels Edelgard’s other hand grab hers from under the table with a gentle grip, as if to reassure her. _Don’t worry. I trust you, remember?_

Arundel’s gaze flits between Byleth and Edelgard while he digests this information. If he had noticed the other manner of physical contact between them, he didn’t remark on it. Finally, his mouth twists into a wicked grin, and he breaks out into a wild laugh. 

“Oh Edelgard, it appears I have underestimated you. Hmmmm.” He narrows his gaze at Byleth, who tries to remain still and emotionless. “You were always rather fond of that woman.” 

“And I still am,” Edelgard says with a straight face, though Byleth can detect the faintest hint of color pooling in her cheeks. “So you’ll understand why I was concerned with keeping her presence hidden.” 

“Of course.” Arundel nods. “What did you call it, a ‘personal project’? Heh.” He gives Byleth a look, examining her up and down. “Though I can’t help but notice she isn’t in shackles. Do you keep all your prisoners this way?” 

“There are other ways to bind someone to you, as I’m sure you are aware. And they can be just as effective as chains.” Byleth can’t help but be impressed by how easily Edelgard slips into this role. _She can be quite scary when she wants to be._

Edelgard quickly gives Byleth’s hand another reassuring squeeze before continuing. “As for now, she isn’t going anywhere. She won’t speak out of turn, nor will she disobey me. And I have confidence that in time, she will come around to our way of thinking.” She lies so effortlessly that even Byleth almost believes it. 

“Humph.” Arundel crosses his arms in front of him. “Do with her what you will. She’s your property.” Edelgard reflexively frowns at that, but quickly corrects herself.

And now Byleth realizes that he hadn’t spoken to her directly this entire time, not even bothering to confirm any of Edelgard’s statements. _It’s as if he doesn’t see me as worth acknowledging. Or is he so fixated on controlling others that he believes what she’s saying, as if it were perfectly natural?_

“Now then,” Arundel leans forward, dropping his fake smile. “I believe you’ve distracted me for long enough. I came here to share information with you, not get caught up in your sentimentality.” 

“By all means uncle, go ahead.” 

“Well then, where to begin…” He taps his chin as if pondering this. 

_You know exactly what you’re doing. Looking for the right dagger to strike with first._

“Ah yes. I’ve been able to confirm this particular piece of information quite easily. According to my informants within House Goneril, there have been no Almyran attacks at Fódlan’s Throat in almost two years. Such an event is… unprecedented.” 

“Almyra?” Edelgard processes this information. “I find it hard to believe they wouldn’t take advantage of the turmoil in Fódlan to launch attacks.” She almost turns to Byleth out of habit, but stops partway. “Claude,” she says. “I don’t know how, but he must have struck a deal with them.” 

“I suspect as much as well. The new Duke Riegan is an unpredictable element. He’s even making efforts to bring Houses Ordelia and Gloucester back into his fold.” He points directly at Edelgard. “And the more they see how our momentum has stalled as a result of your particular… weaknesses, they will be more likely to capitulate to him.” 

“Uncle,” Edelgard says, her voice low, like a smoldering flame. “You are more than welcome to compensate for any of my supposed weaknesses. But until you enter the fray and fight on the front lines yourself, you have no right to criticize how I conduct this war.” 

“I don’t, do I?.” He taps his chin again. “Now, for the second piece of information…” 

_The second dagger you mean._

“Ah yes. It concerns two people very near and dear to you.” Arundel’s grin is borderline sadistic, as if he’s deriving pleasure from what he’s about to say. “It appears that King Dimitri and Archbishop Rhea were seen holding a council meeting in Fhirdiad. This is one of the first such meetings since the war began.” 

Edelgard brings a concerned hand to her face. “That is indeed alarming news. Despite the tentative alliance between the Kingdom and the Church, we counted on Dimitri’s bloodlust clashing with Rhea’s more conservative strategies.” Byleth understands she’s stating what is obvious information for her sake. “They’ve never coordinated well, much to our benefit. What has changed?” 

“The so called ’Tempest King’ has, by all accounts. My spies inform me that his zealous attitude toward the Empire’s total destruction has lessened as of late. He’s more focused on the battlefield, preferring long-term tactics over short-term ones, which is in sharp contrast to his earlier fighting style. Rumor has it he’s even taken a bride from the Alliance.” 

_Dimitri’s getting married?_

“If all this is true, then we might just be facing the worst possible scenario.” Edelgard’s expression is solemn, and now Byleth grabs her hand and gently squeezes it. A small smile flashes on her lips for a second, before vanishing. “But until these changes and their consequences become apparent, we must stay the course. We can adjust as needed.” 

“It’s easy to say that now, but what about when the enemy is knocking on the gates of Enbarr?” Arundel has a hungry look in his eyes, as if he had finally cornered the prey he’d been stalking. “You know, my offer still stands…” 

“And I will continue to consider it. But I am not yet that desperate.” 

“No, not yet anyway. But if things continue this way, you’ll wish you had listened to me earlier.” 

“You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t feel like being further indebted to you.” 

“I suppose that’s it then. I know better than to try and change your mind.” Arundel sighs and stands up. “Do what you like, but eventually you will realize I only have what’s best for you in mind. After all, I’m not the one losing a war.” 

_You have no idea what’s best for her._

Making his way to the door, Arundel stops. He turns to look at Edelgard. “Just remember, little Edelgard, that your stubborn pride will only get you so far.” Giving a malicious smile, he twists the knife in further. “Perhaps it’s a good thing your father isn’t able to see you now… I can’t imagine how disappointed he would be.” Byleth feels Edelgard form fists with her hands, but she says nothing. Arundel laughs. “That’s a good girl.” He reaches for the door-handle and… 

“Don’t you dare talk to her like that.” 

… Edelgard and Arundel whip their heads around to stare in shock at Byleth. The professor is standing up, her eyes drilling daggers at the Lord Regent, hands pressed down on the table. 

“Don’t you dare talk to Edelgard like that,” Byleth repeats, her tone not bothering to disguise the fury flowing through her words. She grips the table edge with her hands, and she can feel the wood strain against her strength. And so desperately did she wish it was that snake’s neck instead. 

“You…” Arundel gives Byleth his full attention for the first time, and she can see the wrath threatening to spill out from behind his eyes. But there was something else lurking within, the tinges of fear. “You would speak to me in such a manner?’ His left hand twitches, and Byleth can smell the formation of sulfur - the indication that a spell is being charged. But then he shakes his head and the smell dissipates. 

“A pathetic worm like you isn’t even worthy of falling at my hand. It seems Solon was right, and you are simply far more trouble than you are worth.” He turns to Edelgard. “And you. Not quite the master you imagine yourself to be, are you? Keep your _pet_ on a tighter leash, or I will find a way to make her useful to us, willing or not.” 

And with that he leaves, seemingly taking the air in the room with him. 

The moment he’s left Byleth releases her death grip on the table and collapses back into her seat. She’s surprised by her sudden outburst, that his comments had gotten under her skin. It had been Edelgard that Arundel was trying to demean, not her. Yet she couldn’t just sit there while he spoke like that. Not to her. Not to Edelgard. 

“Ugh.” Edelgard lowers her head and lays it against the table. “That could have gone better.” 

Byleth feels pangs of guilt pull at her. “I really shouldn’t have lashed out like that.” 

Edelgard turns her head to the side. “On the contrary, I’m grateful that you stood up for me. I’m used to his back-handed nature, but I must admit it felt good to see you surprise him.” She sighs. “I just wish he had brought some good news for a change. Then this whole thing might have been worth it.” 

“There there.” Byleth gently pats the emperor on the head, ignoring the woman’s quiet protests. But she doesn’t stop her. 

“Hmmmm,” Edelgard hums to herself. Then she locks eyes with Byleth; her cheeks flush with red. “Um, my teacher… I’m sorry for how I acted back there. Power is the only language that man understands, so I had to speak in such a way that he would believe you weren’t a threat.” 

“Don’t apologize. It was certainly, well, _interesting_ to hear you talk like that.” Byleth didn’t mention that she had found Edelgard’s fake possessiveness a tiny bit exhilarating. That would stay her secret. 

\---

“…and there! That should be good enough for Hubert.” Putting down her quill, Edelgard stacks the papers together and places them in the center of the table. “Thank you for your help, Professor. Writing reports and transcripts is pretty boring by oneself.” 

“Think nothing of it. Though doesn’t this count as helping your war effort?” Byleth gently teases. She had actually been surprised when Edelgard had asked for her assistance.

“Looks like you caught me, my teacher.” Edelgard’s smile is teasing as well. “That was step one of my plan to get you on my side.” The two chuckle together, both relieved to put the tension from earlier behind them. 

Edelgard takes the stack of papers and hands them to Byleth. “I have a favor to ask you, Professor. Would you mind delivering these to Hubert?” She grabs the papers without complaint. “I’m going to go make sure Arundel has left. He has a residence in the city he uses, so I’d just like to make sure we are in the clear.” 

“Sure thing.” But Byleth smiles slyly. “This wouldn’t happen to be step two, would it?” 

Edelgard laughs, and Byleth can’t help but appreciate just how lovely the sight and sound is. _I’m so happy we can still enjoy each other’s company like this._

“No my teacher, this is step three.” Edelgard’s grin is razor sharp. “You already completed step two without realizing it.” 

“Maybe I should save you the trouble and swear my allegiance to the Empire already.” Byleth taps the papers. “Meet you at Hubert’s office?” 

“Of course.” 

They part ways, and Byleth makes her way to the wing of the palace where the Imperial officials kept their offices. Hubert kept his in a corner, a few down from Edelgard’s. The professor knocks once on the door, then enters without waiting for a response. 

Hubert’s scowl is quickly replaced with a relieved smile, which he then snuffs out almost immediately with feigned neutrality. 

“Professor, you’re unharmed. I take it the meeting went well?” 

“Hardly. Read for yourself.” Byleth hands him the report. “Were you expecting me to come back missing an arm or something?” 

“Nothing quite so dramatic. But if it did come to blows between you and the Lord Regent, I expected him to land at least one good hit before you ripped him to shreds” He begins to read through the transcript. “Hmmm, I’m impressed. You have far more restraint than I expected.” Hubert continues to read, skimming back and forth between sections. “Ah,” he says as he begins to chuckle to himself. “Lady Edelgard’s behavior is rather… unorthodox. I get what she was trying to do, and it evidently worked, but really… did she need to be so self-indulgent?” 

_What is he talking about?_ “Hubert, you aren’t making any sense.” 

He looks up from the papers. “Am I not? Don’t worry about it then.” But there’s a knowing look in his green eyes that indicates he is well aware of exactly what his words meant. 

_First Manuela and now Hubert. What is everyone trying to imply about Edelgard?_

“Um, Hubert, do you think what Arundel told me and Edelgard is true? About Dimitri and Claude.” 

“What do you think? You have a pretty good sense of people.” 

Byleth thinks it over. “I guess we should assume he’s being honest with us. The information he shared could be corroborated easily enough.” Hubert nods. “But still… that’s pretty bad news.” 

“Agreed,” Hubert says, with a grim expression. “I suppose it was only a matter of time. Fortunately I’ve already planned for most of these eventualities. My solutions just aren’t as ideal as I would like.” He sighs. “Anyway, this isn’t any of your concern. Why don’t you run along now and take a break or something.” 

But it’s Hubert that Byleth thinks needs a break. His face is pale and worn, and the areas below his eyes are dark and puffy. Any sleep he’s had must have been days ago. _Has he always looked so exhausted?_

“Hubert, my entire stay here so far has been one giant break. But I’ll get out of your hair.” Byleth steps out the door, but turns before leaving completely. “Hey, take care of yourself, alright? I know nobles like you have a tendency to overdo it, but there’s nothing wrong with slowing down for a minute and enjoying some time for yourself.” And before a flabbergasted Hubert can respond, she’s stepped out the room. 

“Professor!” A waving Edelgard walks down the hall, and Byleth meets her halfway. “Did Hubert have anything to say?” 

_Plenty_ “Nothing important to me. You know how it is, considering my circumstances here.” 

“I see. Give me a second to check in with him.” Edelgard heads inside, but emerges half a minute later. “Or perhaps not.” 

“Did he kick you out too?” 

Edelgard puts a hand to her mouth and smiles. “Not at all. I think he’s trying to take a _nap_. 

“What?” Now Byleth leans her head in, incredibly curious. Just as she said, Hubert had his head down on the desk, his large black coat covering his shoulders like a blanket. It had only been minutes since Byleth had seen him but he was already completely out cold. He had either taken her words to heart, or simply collapsed from exhaustion. 

She closes the door behind her. “Let’s let him rest.” And suddenly she feels exhausted herself, like a Nosferatu spell had been cast on her. Legs shaking, she tries to lean on the wall for support, but Edelgard grabs her instead. 

“Professor, are you alright?” The concern in her voice is infectious, and Byleth can’t help but feel guilty for enjoying it. 

“I’m just tired.” That much was true; it had been a long day. “I think I may have pushed myself a little too much.” She knew Edelgard would be upset at hearing that, both at her and herself. But she wanted to be honest. 

And she was right; an expression approximating discontent materialized across her face. But instead of chastising Byleth Edelgard instead motions for her to follow. Obeying, Byleth lets herself be helped by the younger woman to the emperor’s office. Sinking onto a couch, Byleth closes her eyes, feeling better just by being off her feet. She feels Edelgard press a glass into her hand and lift it up to her mouth. The water feels divine. 

“I shouldn’t have made you attend that meeting. That was beyond unfair of me.” Byleth hears Edelgard’s words flow towards her. “You’re a prisoner, and I had no right to push you like that.”

Byleth shakes her head, though not entirely in disagreement. “Perhaps it was, but you were in a difficult position. So I understand.” 

“You are far too forgiving towards me, my teacher. I’m not going to complain, but at some point it almost feels like I’m taking advantage of you.” 

“You kind of are, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help or support you when I can. That’s what friends are for, right?” 

The room is so quiet that for a moment Byleth almost thinks she’s alone. But when she opens her eyes Edelgard is still there, sitting across from her in silent shock. A wide range of emotions run through her eyes, and her facial expressions similarly contort to match. 

“I… my tea-” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “Byleth, are you saying you consider us _friends_?” 

Now it’s Byleth’s turn to be confused. _Wait, did I misinterpret?_ “We are, aren’t we?” In the years before she had arrived at Garreg Mach Byleth had never been close enough to anyone to consider them friends. Acquaintances maybe, comrades-in-arms definitely, but never friends. And it hadn’t really mattered, not to the Ashen Demon, whose only companion had been death. For so long the idea had been nothing more than a concept meant for people other than her. But now… 

Byleth is absolutely certain. “I have no idea how you feel, but you are my friend, no matter what.” She struggles to turn her thoughts into words and struggles further to speak them aloud, but she tries, because she wants Edelgard to understand. “I feel at ease when I’m with you. Like I can be my actual self.” Byleth’s head is pounding from earlier, but she pushes through. “I smile when I see you, laugh when we share a joke. You’ve even seen me cry.” It’s easier now to get her words across. “We’ve shared our hopes and dreams, our fears and disappointments. We’ve gotten angry with each other, kept secrets so painful they hurt even now. I’ve swung my sword at you in peacetime, and again in wartime. And yet… I wouldn’t trade any of that for anything. I want to be your friend. Does that make me an idiot?” 

“Yes,” Edelgard whispers. She reaches forward and takes Byleth’s hands, bringing them close. Her face gives nothing away, but it’s her eyes that betray her - the violet irises shimmering like morning dewdrops. “I’ve lied to you, manipulated you. I work with the people that killed your father. I started a war and tore your life apart. You’re only here right now because I hurt you and took you captive.” She tightens her grip on the professor’s hands, as if scared she’ll let go. “So yes, you are an idiot. But I guess I’m an idiot too, because I want to be your friend as well.” 

“Then we can be idiots together.” Byleth closes her eyes and leans back again. She can feel the hands of sleep grab at her, threatening to pull her under. It had taken most of her effort to articulate herself earlier, and she had no energy left. “Edelgard, I…” But the words never leave her lips. 

Edelgard stands up, slowly unclipping the massive cape she wears from her shoulders. Carefully she lays it over the sleeping professor, making sure to avoid waking her. With a precise gesture she brushes a lock of hair from Byleth’s face and marvels at how peaceful she appears in her rest. 

“Byleth… I’m sorry for being so selfish. You’ve already given me so much, and yet I still want more.” She turns to leave but stops next to the doorway. “Sleep well, my teacher.” Her words are quiet, intended to fall on dreaming ears. 

It’s the words that go unspoken that speak the loudest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, even with being stuck at home due to a viral outbreak, I still struggle to write a single chapter. At least it's the longest one yet, so that makes up for it? 
> 
> Seriously though, I hope everyone takes care of themselves and stays safe.


	7. Bound Together

Back at the Officer’s Academy Byleth had once attended a seminar taught by Professor Manuela discussing the differences between medicine and healing magic. She explained that white magic was also literal empathetic magic, meaning that the more one was in tune with the emotions of their recipient the more effective it would be. Healing spells were more powerful between individuals that carried a strong emotional bond. Alternatively, offensive white magic worked the same way - the more animosity between you and your opponent, the more damage you would inflict. 

_Perhaps Linhardt cared more for us than he let on._

These thoughts come to Byleth as she watches Manuela work. The physician moves her hand smoothly just above the surface of her patient’s injury and small white sparks jump from her to him. The sparks dance for a second before vanishing into the skin. Almost immediately the raw edges of the wound begin to look less red, and the sides slowly pull themselves together. Even from where she’s sitting, it looks painful to Byleth. 

“There,” Manuela says as she retracts her hand. “I’ll have to stitch the rest back together, but you’ll be better in no time. That is, unless you decide to put yourself in danger again. But knowing you soldier types, that would be like asking the ocean to stop the tides.” 

Byleth is impressed with her attitude, especially considering who she’s admonishing. Not everyone has the courage to scold the Death Knight. 

Jeritza says nothing, simply staring straight ahead. He gives no indication that he’s in any sort of pain, even as Manuela guides the surgeon’s needle through his flesh. Aside from an occasional glance thrown in Byleth’s direction he seems to exist in a world of his own. 

“Hey Jeritza.” Byleth decides maybe the general could use a distraction - goodness knows she could. “You haven’t told us how you got that wound.” 

His head swivels in her direction, locking on intensely to her gaze. “There was an enemy soldier. I thought he might have been the one.” His voice is flat and monotone, no different from their academy days. 

“The one?” _This sounds sort of familiar…_

“The one to kill me. I let him pierce me with his blade, but his aim was off and his arm weak.” And Byleth swears she hears disappointment in his voice. “So I cut him down. He wasn’t the one.” 

“You what?!” There’s a clanging of metal as Manuela drops her needle on a small steel tray. She makes her way to Jeritza’s front, where she promptly grabs hold of both sides of his face. Squeezing tightly, she pulls him in close until they are staring right at each other. 

“Listen here you blithering moron, you’re telling me that you purposefully let yourself get stabbed? After all the effort I put in to making you nice and healthy you have the audacity to reveal it could have been avoided?!” 

“He wasn’t the one,” Jeritza mumbles out from between her palms, as if that was the most logical answer in the world. 

“Unbelievable!” Manuela disengages and stalks to her desk, where she falls into her chair. “If I hadn’t sworn an oath to help those who needed it I might seriously consider leaving you to your fate next time!” She puts a hand to her face and waves the other one towards the door. “Those stitches should hold, so please find your way out of my office, or else you might just discover that I could very well be ‘the one’ myself.” 

He pulls his shirt back on and shrugs into his jacket, buttoning it up slowly. His eyes never leave Byleth, which she finds a little disturbing. 

“This would never have happened if Emperor Edelgard would simply let me fight you. One of us would live, the other would die. That would be perfect.” 

Manuela groans from by her desk. “And thank the goddess Edelgard had the sense to forbid you from doing so after your last encounter. I swear…” 

“Jeritza,” Byleth says softly. “I don’t want to fight you. What if I killed you?” 

“Heh.” His mouth twists into sort of a smirk. “Such confidence, to think you’d walk away from me.” But he returns to normal, the expression gone. “I don’t want to fight you either. But the Death Knight demands his toll. And I can only deny him for so long.” He leaves the infirmary without a further word. 

“Ugh,” Manuela sighs after a while. “I was a little harsh on him, wasn’t I? It’s not his fault he’s so… fractured. He isn’t in a right state of mind.” 

Byleth takes the seat across from her. “I must admit, I’m surprised to see you so concerned over the man who literally stabbed you. You’re quite forgiving.” But the second the words leave her mouth, she realizes how ridiculous what she just said was. 

_Did I really just say that?_

“Did you really just say that, Professor?” Manuela giggles. “You’re one to talk. As if you haven’t forgiven Edelgard ten-fold at this point, and then some.” Byleth blushes slightly, her ears burning a light shade of red. 

“You didn’t call me out here just to tease me, did you?” 

“Certainly not, though that is a fun extra.” Manuela reaches into a drawer and pulls out two glasses, followed by a bottle of mead. “I was hoping you’d share a drink with me.”

 _Ah, that’s nice of her to remember._

“I’d say it’s way too early for that, but considering what today is…” Byleth grabs one of the glasses, and Manuela pours a healthy amount of mead into it. “I’ve been so focused on other matters since my arrival that I had almost forgotten it was the Ethereal Moon. But I suppose today’s that day, isn’t it?” 

“Indeed,” Manuela replies as she pours herself a much larger amount. “It must feel strange. Five years have passed for the rest of us, but for you, this will be your first day of remembrance for him.” She raises her glass and Byleth copies her. “A toast. To one of our fallen warriors, a good friend and father.” 

They gently press their glasses together, and a soft _clinking_ sound reverberates in the air. 

“To Jeralt.” 

“To Jeralt.” And they both take a drink. 

—

Byleth spends the next few hours in the small garden nearby. She had grown fond of the location, and it became something of a regular ritual for her. The flowers were always well cared for, and she enjoyed simply basking in the sun while the wheel of time turned around her. She’d pull the odd weed, or hold a brief conversation with some of the regular passersby - people in the palace had slowly warmed up to her. 

The ritual usually ended when Edelgard would come to find her, exhausted from some meeting and wanting a break from the drudges of ruling. Byleth was always happy to oblige. 

But today the emperor was late, so she decided to take a short nap to pass the time. Leaning against a reasonably comfortable wall, Byleth closes her eyes and lets the warmth of the late-morning sun overtake her. 

_If I were a flower, would I be wilting here, or blooming?_ Byleth can’t help but hazily think that she’s gotten rather content with her new life. And for as much as she had changed during her time as a teacher, the concept of being able to determine her own future was something that felt alien to her. Having someone else decide for her had always been easiest; first her father, then Rhea, and now Edelgard. _Sothis asked me to pick my own path and walk it. Is that what I’m doing? Am I betraying my promise by growing complacent?_

_Or is this a part of that destiny as well?_

Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the grass and the rustling of clothing. She senses movement on her side, and feels the presence of someone sitting down next to her. Byleth doesn’t need to open her eyes to know who it is. 

“Hello Edelgard. Done for the day?” 

There’s a surprised exclamation followed by a short cough. And it is indeed the emperor that answers her back. 

“How did you know it was me?” 

Byleth laughs softly. “Who else would be so bold as to sit down next to a lady in repose without asking?” _Well, aside from Sylvain that is. But he learned his lesson after I tossed him in the pond._

“I’d point out that I am the emperor, and this is my palace… but I don’t believe it is breaking any sort of social decorum for someone to sit next to their friend.” 

“No, I don’t suppose it is.” The scent of something warm and savory drifts towards her, and Byleth opens her eyes to see that Edelgard is holding a basket of baked goods. “Oh, and you brought me treats.” 

“Indeed I did.” She holds out the basket. “Would you care for one? I must warn you, I bought them for myself, so they won’t be as sweet as you are used to.” 

Taking a square pastry, Byleth bites into it. Edelgard wasn’t kidding; the inherent sweetness was contrasted by a salty caramel center and bitter chocolate coating. But it was good, and she ate it happily. 

Edelgard nibbles on one herself. “Ordinarily I wouldn’t allow myself to indulge this way, as Hubert would love to lecture me over it. So consider this a bribe for your silence.” 

“Even I wouldn’t dare _snitch_ on the Adrestian Emperor. But consider my silence paid for.” 

“Hmmm, good.” She puts the basket down and runs a hand through her white hair, working out some invisible knot. “Say, Professor, do you feel like doing something? I’ve got some free time, so it’s really up to you.” 

“Edelgard…” 

“We could go for a stroll in the greenhouse. I’ve been told they’ve cultivated a lovely variety of plants native to Brigid. Or perhaps you’d like to visit the Wyvern pens? I must admit I’ve never quite gotten used to flying, but it can still be very enjoyable at low altitudes.” 

“Edelgard…” 

She stops and blinks. “Yes Professor?” 

Byleth smiles and puts a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “You don’t need to distract me. I’m feeling fine. Really.” 

“Oh.” Edelgard gives her a sheepish look. “I apologize for my assumption. It’s just, given the date and all…” 

“Because it’s the day my father died?” A small part of Byleth is surprised by how easy that is to say. 

Edelgard doesn’t say anything, but examines Byleth with a guilty expression. When the professor meets her gaze she snaps away, focusing on some distant point straight ahead. Byleth looks at her with a sad smile she can’t see, then turns to the flower bed right beside her. Beautiful red carnations are in full bloom, and she carefully picks one. Taking it, she gently inserts it into one of Edelgard’s hair buns, next to her golden horns. 

“Professor, what are you doing?” Edelgard touches the flower with a confused look. 

“Shhhh.” Byleth says as she picks another flower. “Hold still for me.” She puts this one on the opposite side of the first. “There.” She admires how well the red contrasts with the white of her hair. 

“But why?” 

Byleth blushes slightly. “Because it looks good on you.” She’s rewarded with Edelgard reciprocating the expression. “And I wanted to thank you for worrying about me.” 

“That’s not something you need to thank me for. It’s natural that I’d be concerned.” Edelgard plucks a carnation of her own from the ground next to her. “Now you hold still.” She leans in towards Byleth, carefully weaving the stem of the flower into her hair above the ear. 

_She’s so close. Have her eyes always been so bright? Her breath so soft?_

“Now we match,” Edelgard says as she pulls back, admiring her handiwork. “Well, as much as we can anyway.” 

“How do I look?” 

Byleth doesn’t quite catch what Edelgard mumbles under her breath, but she swears it almost sounds like _beautiful_. 

Before Byleth can inquire about it she notices a figure approaching them - an Imperial mage by her manner of dress. She bows before Edelgard, then kneels down and whispers something in her ear. The emperor nods, then dismisses her. 

“Plotting something?” 

Edelgard rises to her feet, brushing the dirt from her dress. “That would imply my intentions are dastardly. This is nothing more than a surprise.” 

“I feel sorry for whoever you’re planning to surprise.” 

Shrugging, Edelgard looks down on Byleth with a slightly amused expression. “I’d hope not, considering it’s you.” 

_I should have guessed that._ “I’m not in trouble, am I?” 

Edelgard reaches out a hand, and Byleth takes it, letting the momentum carry her to a standing position. “You are always in trouble, my teacher. That’s why I have to keep such a close eye on you.” She touches the flowers in her hair and smiles. “So far it hasn’t been too bad.” 

“So what’s the surprise?” 

“It’d hardly be one if I told you.” But there’s something in Edelgard’s eyes that indicates she isn’t quite sure of herself; as if her scheming carries just as much risk as reward. And while Byleth expects her to dance around the subject for a while longer, the emperor decides to be direct. “Professor, how would you feel about taking a trip? Just the two of us.” 

Of all the things Byleth had been expecting, that was not one of them. “A trip?” 

Edelgard nods patiently. “That’s what I said, yes.” 

“But…” Byleth really isn’t sure what to say, so she decides to confirm the information first. “You mean like down to the stables?”

“No, I mean a real outing. Beyond Enbarr.” 

_She isn’t kidding._ “I thought I wasn’t allowed to leave the palace?” 

“ _You_ are not. However, you aren’t bound to the palace itself. You’re bound to _me_." Edelgard crosses her arms in front of her chest, as if chastising the professor for not fully understanding the arbitrary rules of her imprisonment. “If I wanted to move or bring you somewhere else, it would be well within my authority to do so.” But there’s a sly smile that emerges on her lips. “Of course, I’ll be sure to keep you on a very short leash.” 

_Oh Sothis, she’s enjoying this._ “Alright, I’ll bite. Where would you be taking me?” 

Edelgard tilts her head. “You aren’t very good at this whole ‘surprise’ thing, are you?” 

“Fine, fine.” Byleth raises her hands in a false surrender. “I like the idea, even if you are being a little evasive about it.” 

“Good.” Edelgard reaches down and picks up Byleth’s cane, handing it to her. “I’m going to take a few minutes and prepare. Why don’t you go and wait for me near the training yard. It won’t be long.” 

—

It takes Edelgard a little longer than just a few minutes to arrive, but Byleth doesn’t mind; she’s too busy speculating on the details of the trip. _Where would she want to take me, and why? Is it not rather dangerous of her to do so?_ If the emperor’s upmost concern was keeping Byleth’s survival and location a secret, she wouldn’t have given her so much freedom. The underground of Enbarr runs deep, and it would have been easiest to simply stick the professor in a cell and out of sight. 

“Here.” The voice next to her is startling, and Byleth almost jumps out of her seat. But it’s just Edelgard, offering her a coat. She takes it, having left her jacket back in her room. Edelgard is wearing a matching set, as well as carrying a sleek leather bag slung around her shoulders. 

“I take it we aren’t going far?” Byleth asks as she puts on the coat. It matches well with her current clothing, almost deliberately so. _She’s rather keen with this sort of thing. I may be a prisoner, but I’m a fashionable one._

“No, we are.” Edelgard sorts through the bag, not looking up as she speaks. 

“So we’ll be traveling with a caravan?” 

“No, it’ll just be the two of us.” She finishes and closes the straps, rotating it to lie flush with her back. “We’ll be there quick enough anyway.” 

_So it’s not close by, but doesn’t take long to reach?_ Byleth admits to herself that she’s stumped. 

She follows Edelgard to a nearby room, one she had never been in before. The lighting is dark, with only a few candles and sconces illuminating a mass of tomes and books scattered on shelves and overflowing onto the floor. A circular area in the center is kept clear, marked with lines and arrows at even intervals. 

A woman stands behind a desk, and Byleth recognizes her as the mage from earlier. She hails Edelgard when she notices them. 

“Greetings, Lady Edelgard. I’m ready whenever you are.” 

Edelgard nods. “Thank you Theo. We are set to depart.” 

“Very good. Please step into the circle then.” 

Edelgard motions for Byleth to do so, then joins her. And the professor understands immediately why Edelgard’s clues had been so cryptic. _A warp station._ Individual mages had the capacity to warp themselves and others short distances. But by channeling greater power in a fixed location fueled by arcane crystals, it was possible to warp objects over longer spaces. The process required an enormous amount of energy, and thus was typically reserved for more important occasions. 

“Let’s see… I’ve got you locked in for destination 12C, routing through 6B and 8S. So three jumps total, but it should be fluid enough.” She glances at the two women standing in the circle. “Um, your majesty, but typically we transport one individual per warp.” 

“I understand, but given my guest’s ‘unique’ circumstances, I’d prefer to be able to keep an eye on her.”

“If you insist, but you’ll have to step closer together for this to work."

Byleth and Edelgard do so, each moving until they are almost touching. Theo mumbles something to herself and a ring of purple light materializes underneath their feet. Byleth can immediately tell it’s too small; both she and Edelgard are still standing with a few limbs out the circle. 

“I’m sorry your majesty, but if you want this to succeed, you’ll have to be even closer.” She pauses awkwardly for a moment. “Maybe try embracing each other.” 

Edelgard’s face is so pale that Byleth almost believes she’s lost all her blood. The two look at each other, and without a further word, Byleth puts her arms around her from the side. Her head is now behind Edelgard’s, and she uses the opportunity to whisper in her ear. 

“You were the one who wouldn’t let me go on my own.” 

“Shut up,” Edelgard retorts lamely. Byleth can’t tell if the heat she’s feeling is from the burning sconces or her face. 

“Alright, that should be fine.” Theo wastes no time speaking the incantation aloud. The ring of purple flares, and sharp lines shoot upwards, multiplying as they surround the two in the circle. Byleth feels her body grow lighter, and her vision blurs. “Good luck, Emperor Edelgard.” 

And then the darkness envelops them. 

—

Byleth had warped before, but never with this intensity. The sensation is akin to standing underneath a waterfall, forced to close ones eyes due to the pressure of the falling water as it pours overhead. It isn’t wholly unpleasant, just strange and new. 

There’s a bright flash of purple behind her eyelids and the waterfall shuts off, leaving her feeling oddly dry. She opens them to find herself in a room near identical to the one they had started in, just a lot cleaner and more organized. 

_I guess Theo has a bit of a messy streak._

A group of mages stand to the side, talking amongst themselves. One of them breaks off from the rest, making his way over to greet the new arrivals. 

“Professor.” Edelgard whispers, her voice incredibly close. “You can let go now.” 

“Oh.” Byleth realizes she still has her arms wrapped around the other woman. She quickly disengages, though a small part of her feels reluctant to do so. 

While Edelgard converses with the mage, Byleth takes a seat near the entrance. A large door blocks her view of the outside, so she isn’t sure exactly where they are. It’s a little disorienting, she thinks, to not know something as basic as one’s location. 

There’s a hand on her shoulder, and Byleth looks up to see Edelgard’s concerned violet eyes staring back. “Are you feeling okay? You look troubled.” 

Shaking her head, she tries to give the emperor a confident smile. “I’m just a little dazed from the warp. I’ll be fine.” 

“Well, take as long as you need. When you’re ready we can depart.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a flask of water, which Byleth eagerly accepts. Taking several large sips, Byleth begins to feel better. 

“So, how is this going to work?” Byleth asks as she hands the flask back to Edelgard. The emperor takes a sip herself before stowing it away. “Am I going to be under armed guard?" 

Edelgard appears confused at the suggestion. “Why would you be?” 

“Because I might use the opportunity to flee?” But as the words escape Byleth’s lips she realizes how ridiculous that sounds. She didn’t have any plans to run away, something Edelgard no doubt knew as well, or else she never would have suggested the trip to begin with. 

“Oh?” Edelgard smirks in amusement. “Should I be concerned?” 

“Well, no,” Byleth admits, and now she finds herself caught off guard despite having brought the issue up in the first place. “But it’s the principle that matters, right?” 

“Would you prefer that I impede you somehow?” Edelgard’s eyes light up, and her smile is uncharacteristically devious. “Perhaps I should bind your wrists and ankles and carry you to our destination. Does that sound adequate?” 

Byleth’s face burns at the suggestion. “How am I the one that’s worried about this?” _And since when has Edelgard become so comfortable with teasing me?_

“Because I thought it was clear that I trust you. And part of that trust means I won’t go back on my word.” 

“Are you not in the least bit worried?” 

With a sort of half-smile, Edelgard nods. “Of course I am. Trust doesn’t come easily to me.” The look she gives Byleth is both new and old, her eyes and smile matching: equal parts cautious and optimistic. “But I’m taking a risk with you because beyond all understanding, I’ve been given something of a second chance. We may not be walking the same path, but the idea of hurting you again is painful to me.” 

“I didn’t realize I meant so much to you.” But inside her chest, within a heart that doesn’t beat, Byleth feels something warm and unknown. It’s scary to her, but when the feeling fades, she finds she misses it. 

And now Edelgard looks at her as if she just said the most illogical and absurd thing in the world. “Of course you do. You’re my dear teacher, as well as my friend.” She turns her head in a poor attempt to hide her reddening face. An unspoken _and_ drifts between them, along with the implications of what could come after. 

Byleth quickly stands up, awkwardly fumbling for her cane in a desperate attempt to defuse the atmosphere the two had found themselves in, not quite knowing exactly what the tension even was. She motions towards the door. “I’m ready.” 

Nodding, Edelgard grabs the door and begins to open it. “Stay close. I did bring some rope with me, in case you stray too far.” There’s a few moments of silence. “That was a joke, my teacher.” 

“You really need to work on your sense of humor.” 

Edelgard _humphs_ at the remark. “It was plenty funny. Maybe you just don’t get it.” And with that she opens the door and gently pushes Byleth through. 

They emerge into a small village square, surrounded by dilapidated houses and ruined storefronts. Large chunks of the buildings are missing, seemingly blown out. The central fountain lies in pieces, while the main road is torn up, cobblestone overturned on top of dirt as though upheaved by some massive creature. A few Imperial soldiers stand guard along the path, but the area is otherwise abandoned. 

_This is all so familiar…_

Byleth’s eyes drift up the hill behind the village, and her knees almost buckle when she does. She sees the massive iron gate, battered beyond belief yet somehow still standing. She sees the towering stone walls, scorched with the evidence of countless magical attacks. And finally she sees the enormous cathedral, its stained glass windows illuminated by the late afternoon sun. 

“Garreg Mach…” And she instantly realizes why Edelgard had been so insistent on making the journey without delay, why she had chosen today to suddenly spring this on her. All the secrecy, the pained glances and the underlying guilt; Byleth finally understood. 

They had come to visit her father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Traditionally, Red Carnations symbolize love and devotion. 
> 
> Edelgard knows this. Byleth does not. 
> 
> Also, I had to fudge the dates a little to make this work. The reunion and the day of Jeralt's death fall very close together, but for the sake of the story, I spread them out a little. The rule of drama makes this ok!


	8. The Near and Distant Past

“It’s almost like stepping back in time.” 

In truth, Byleth knew she had been here before, not that long ago. When she had woken up on the riverbank below the monastery, she had glimpsed its ruin from far away and up close after that. But her mind had been so intensely focused on reaching the Goddess Tower, on potentially reaching _Edelgard_ that all else had been ignored, and Garreg Mach hadn’t mattered outside of the person she hoped to find there. 

Standing there now amidst the collapsed roof of the knights hall, she almost feels like she can reach back and touch the past. She sees Dimitri practicing against a training dummy, shattering his spear as he accidentally shears its head off. She remembers catching Claude skulking on the rooftop at night, hiding from Seteth after asking Flayn the wrong question about her past. There had been Edelgard, carefully reading through the instruction books, Hubert often close at hand. And every time Byleth had entered the room, she had smiled so genuinely at her. 

“If you could go back, what would you do? Would you say something new, do anything different?” The Edelgard of the present asks this, standing in the doorway. 

“I would,” Byleth responds. “But I honestly don’t know what I’d say or do.” Edelgard nods at that answer. 

“It’s easy to speculate what we could have done differently, when we think of the choices we’ve made.” Edelgard runs her hand over the doorframe, as if hoping to extract nostalgia itself from the wood. “But we can’t turn back the hands of time. All we can do is make decisions for our future.” 

“So much has changed.” Byleth was startled at just how retrospective she was feeling. Teaching at Garreg Mach had only taken up a year of her life, but it had felt like a lifetime. The thought of going back to cold and unfeeling mercenary work was something she had stopped considering at some point, but she really couldn’t remember when. _They still call me Professor._ And that fills her with pride. 

“You’ve changed the most,” Edelgard points out. 

“People have been telling me that for a while now. Is it really true?” 

“It is, my teacher.” Edelgard places a hand on her chin, trying to draw on her memories. “You used to never smile, laugh or frown. You were stoic to an extreme, and some of us wondered if you even could express emotion.” Her lips turn upwards in a faint smile. “But now, you’re so full of life. It’s truly wonderful to see.” 

Byleth isn’t really sure what to say, because she can’t help but realize just how accurate that was. It felt so natural now, to act on the stirrings of her heart and mind, to throw logic away in favor of happiness and anger, sadness and embarrassed affection. When she thinks of her life as the mercenary known as the Ashen Demon, all she can recall is a gnawing emptiness, and it terrifies her. 

“Let’s go,” Edelgard says, interrupting her stream of consciousness. “He’s waiting for you.” 

—

 _Sitri Eisner  
1139 - 1159  
Jeralt Eisner  
??? - 1180  
Resting in the warm embrace of cherished memories._

“Hey mom, hey dad.” 

Byleth gently touches the gravestone, fingers brushing against the names neatly carved into the rock. She lowers herself from her kneeling position until she’s sitting down, cane resting across her lap. 

“It’s been a while, huh?” There’s so much she wants to say. “Mom, I heard from Rhea what happened. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I’m so sorry that you…” A lump forms in her throat, and she tries to swallow it down. “Thank you. You saved my life. I… I wish I could have been there for you. I wish we could have had time together.” She wipes at her eyes, unsure if there were even any tears yet. “I hate that I don’t have any memories of you. But I’m still so thankful. I love you.” 

Glancing over her shoulder, Byleth sees Edelgard off in the distance, sitting on a pile of rubble. The emperor looks in her direction, then turns away. Byleth smiles to herself; she had asked Edelgard to join her, but she had refused, stating it wasn’t her place to get involved. 

“Dad…” It’s odd, Byleth thinks, that she can try and be more open and honest now. She regrets that they hadn’t been closer while they had the chance, even though she understands how difficult that would have been. Jeralt had been ill-equipped to be a single father, and raising a child as odd and distant as her couldn’t have been easy. 

“Things are kind of crazy right now, aren’t they? There’s a war going on, and everything is so different.” _Not to mention one of my students started the conflict._ “You remember Edelgard right? The short girl with the axe?” Byleth giggles to herself at that descriptor. “She’s the Adrestian Emperor now. Things between me and her are a little, well, complicated. I used to be her teacher, but now, uh, I’m technically her prisoner.” _I say ‘technically, because sometimes it doesn’t feel like I am. Except for when she decides to tease me about it as a reminder._ “Don’t worry, it’s not that bad. She’s nice to me, and treats me well. She even went out of her way to bring me here.” 

She looks at Edelgard, who appears to be staring at the darkening afternoon sky, her head resting in her hands. Turning back to the gravestone, Byleth sighs. “She’s probably blaming herself right now. For someone who isn’t afraid to get blood on her hands, she really loves to feel guilty.” She offers an uneasy smile. “I know you wouldn’t hate her for what happened. It wasn’t her fault, no matter how much she tries to connect the dots so that it is.” 

_And perhaps I blame myself as well._

“It still doesn’t seem real. None of it does.” She runs a hand through her hair, wondering what he would say if he could have seen it, now divinely dyed an unearthly green. “Sometimes I feel like I’m one of the only people in the world that understands her. But then she does something that defies my expectations, and I’m suddenly wondering if I even knew Edelgard at all.” _Why would someone so ruthless and ambitious show me such mercy? And why would I do the same?_

Byleth raises her own head to the skies, watching as the clouds drift by. The Ethereal Moon hangs overhead, its name earned by the eerie translucent blue covering the celestial body. 

“Father, do you think I’m a coward?” The question is one she knows had been festering for a while. “It seems everyone has something to fight for, convictions and ideals to draw strength from, a future to seize hold of.” Her hand clutches at her knees, more tightly than she intended. “All I have is fear. I’m scared of losing the people closest to me, like I lost you. But I’m afraid of hurting others to protect what I care for.” _If forced to choose… could I?_ A cloud briefly covers the setting sun, sending the graveyard into a temporary shadow. “Edelgard thinks that keeping me out of the conflict is the most logical and kind thing she can do. In truth though, I think it’s the cruelest. Because all I can do is wait and agonize.

“I know I should tell her. She thinks I’m just being cooperative out of kindness. But it would be like driving a blade through her heart, to admit that I regret not doing something, anything, except nothing. If I had reached out my hand…” 

_I wish you were here to tell me what to do. You always took care of everything._

“I miss you,” Byleth whispers, leaning forward until her head touches the gravestone. “I miss you so much.” She feels the tears well up, and lets them fall unimpeded. 

“Damn it. And after I told Edelgard I was fine.” The professor giggles at that, an ugly croaking chuckle. “Now she’s going to fret over me.” 

_I really can’t stop talking about her, can I?_ Byleth didn’t think that Jeralt would be upset - it had always been easier to talk to each other through other topics. 

Byleth giggles again, and it comes out easier this time. “I don’t really mind all that much, to be honest. I’m just so grateful she and I back in each other’s lives again, regardless of the circumstances.”

Leaning back, Byleth lays down on the grass, staring straight ahead. The sun was already retreating as the afternoon transitioned to evening. In that approaching darkness, the moon looked so close she felt that it was possible to reach out and touch it. 

“Hey, do you remember when Seteth held that fishing tournament after we rescued Flayn? You were so proud of me when I won.” Byleth smiles at the memory, recalling the green-haired girl’s excitement when she had presented her with the winning catch. “I asked you later why you hadn’t entered, and you fed me some line about patrol duties or something. But that was such a lie in hindsight.” She takes a hand and wipes away some tears, though the trickle had slowed down. “You would have kicked everyone’s ass.” 

_We didn’t really have much in common, did we? Aside from fishing and killing that is. I know you weren’t the most emotional father, and I was hardly a grateful daughter. But we made it work._

“There’s so much I don’t know about you and mom.” She sits back up and reaches out again to touch the names etched on the grave. “But you were happy together, and that’s what matters, right?” Standing up, Byleth realizes that she doesn’t even need the cane anymore. She looks wistfully at the wooden stick. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m figuring things out as I go along.” She tries to give a confident smile, but it comes across more as hopeful. _Ah well, close enough._ “I didn’t say it nearly often enough, but I love you.” 

Turning to leave, she takes one last look. “Mom, dad, please rest easy. Regardless of whatever comes after, I hope the two of you have found each other again.” 

—

Edelgard turns her head as she approaches. Byleth flashes what she hopes is a reassuring smile, but she knows the redness of her eyes gives her away. 

“My teacher… Are you alright?” 

She nods. “I’m fine. Thank you, Edelgard. I needed that more than I thought.” 

“They say that time heals all wounds, but no one is expected to feel nothing, especially on days such as today.” She reaches a hand to her head, touching the flower embedded in her hair. “I guess what I mean is, I’m glad I could help, even if this was all I could do.” 

_It’s far more than most would have done._ Byleth sits down next to her, and much to her own surprise, grabs Edelgard by the arm and pulls her into a hug. 

“P-professor!” Edelgard squeaks out, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead her hands find Byleth’s back, and she holds the other woman tightly in return. “It’s okay.” Holding her close, she hums quietly behind Byleth’s ear. “You’re okay.” Neither appear embarrassed by the physical contact, instead taking in the comfort of each other’s company. 

“Thank you so much. I…” Byleth cuts off, but she tightens her embrace, letting that speak for her. “Thank you, Edelgard,” she eventually whispers.

They separate, and Edelgard shakes her head in disagreement. “I refuse to accept thanks for doing what’s clearly the right thing. It would have been cruel of me to deny you this.” 

“Yea, but…” Byleth tilts her own head in confusion. “You were the one who set this whole thing up in the first place.” 

Edelgard dismisses the notion with a gloved hand. “Irrelevant. Would you have felt comfortable asking me?” 

“Well, no.” Byleth admits. “I didn’t think it was even a possibility. I figured you’d reject any such requests.” 

“See? You’re too compliant, my teacher. If you don’t stand up for yourself and what you want, I’ll just walk all over you.” Edelgard says so with a straight face, and Byleth can’t tell if she’s teasing this time or not. 

“Hey,” Byleth responds with something of a grin, deciding she might as well accept it as such. “I’m perfectly capable of standing up to you. In fact, I daresay I could be a real thorn in your side if I wanted.” 

“Don’t let Hubert catch you saying that, or he’ll hide you somewhere even I can’t find.” Edelgard rises to her feet and points further into the monastery grounds. “Would you care to go on a walk with me? I’m feeling nostalgic, and I was hoping to reminisce about old times.” 

_Were you not the one who thought the past as nothing more than a distraction?_ But Byleth felt like indulging her, and truth be told, longed for the cherished memories of their school days as well. 

They first stop by the dinning hall, which was in remarkably good shape despite the many years. Byleth remembered the week after she had arrived and had sat alone, eating not for pleasure but only for sustenance. It was Sylvain who had changed that habit with his suggestion of inviting her students for meals to get to know them better. He had slyly suggested she invite whom he called _some chicks_ , and Byleth had done just that - though she wasn’t sure what chickens had to do with it - and a very surprised Dorothea and Petra had joined her for dinner. 

“Do you remember the night after the mock battle, when we ate together as a class for the first time?” Edelgard muses. “I literally had to drag Bernadetta from her room, and she still decided to spend the whole meal under the table.” 

“That was the time Linhardt fell asleep in his soup, right?” 

The emperor puts a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. “The _first_ time he fell asleep in his soup, yes.” 

Byleth decides on visiting the greenhouse next, and finds her heart torn in two almost immediately. While the building itself was still intact, all the beautiful plants that had adorned the interior were gone, presumably dead and wilted away from neglect. 

“And I was growing such a beautiful batch of forget-me-nots too…” 

“If you’d like, I could have some planters and soil brought to the roof of the palace. You’d have to start anew, but it’s something.” 

“That sounds wonderful.” Byleth realizes how much she missed the routine of working with plants and flowers. She especially missed giving away the final product as gifts to her students and friends. “You spoil me, Edelgard.” 

“It’s just a rooftop garden, not a lavish gift.” Edelgard’s face is as red as the carnations she adores, and she turns away from Byleth to hide it. 

In an effort to achieve a change of scenery, Edelgard insists she wants to visit the Archbishop’s star terrace, and Byleth follows. The balcony is open to the evening sky, tinted orange from the approaching dusk. To both professor and emperor the place has a special and intimate significance; it had been where Edelgard once confessed the secret of her twin crests. 

“Professor, I was wondering if you would tell me a story about you and Jeralt. Something that inspires warm and pleasant memories.” Edelgard’s voice is curious and honest. “I believe it would be an appropriate way to celebrate his life.” 

“A story huh?” Byleth wracks her brain to find a memory that she thinks would work best. Inspired by her surroundings, she decides on one she’s particularly fond of. “Okay, I’ve got it.

“Back when I was young, I enjoyed looking at the stars in the night sky. It didn’t require any input or much thought, so it was a simple pleasure.” 

“Wait,” Edelgard says, interrupting her. “You liked to go stargazing?” 

“I did, yes. As I was saying, It was something that I did in between my father’s jobs as a mercenary, before I was old enough to join him. Every time he finished a job, we would go look for a hill with a clear view of the stars, and lay down so we could watch-” 

“Did Jeralt like stargazing too?” 

Putting a finger in front of the other woman’s lips, Byleth shushes her. “Please let me finish, or else we’ll be here all night.” Edelgard appears absolutely mortified at having been silenced in such a manner, but she apparently relents, nodding once. Byleth continues. 

“When we would look up at the stars, I always wanted to know what the names of the constellations were. But he didn’t know, because he only picked up the habit to make me happy. But I was an insistent brat, and I would relentlessly hound him to find the answers.

“So there we were, night after night, gazing up at the sky while I pestered him about which particular batch of stars we were seeing. And I would always get the same response; ‘Kid, I don’t know’. But then one day after asking him again, he pointed up to a group of them and told me he had learned those were called the Fangs of Grima. 

“You have no idea how delighted I was to learn that. I think it scared the hell out of my father, because apparently I never cared about much of anything before then. But from then on, every time we went to look at the stars together, he would point out a new constellation.” Byleth holds up a hand as she counts them off on her fingers. “Let’s see, there was the Lion and the Panther, the Blazing Sword, the Conquerer’s Star… 

“… The Dragon of Shadow and the Shepard King.” Byleth finishes counting and naming the constellations she could recall. _Funny how that comes back to me so easily._

“Anyway, like most things at that age I eventually lost interest, and our stargazing sessions became few and far in-between, until they ceased altogether.” Byleth smiles fondly. “But I’m still beyond grateful to have had those moments with him.” She glances at Edelgard, as if signaling she can now speak. 

“Professor, that’s a wonderful story, and I can see why you’d hold it so dear to your heart.” There’s a troubled look on Edelgard’s face. “But, about those constellations…” 

“You mean that they were all made up?” Byleth gives her a mischievous smile. “I know. I found out years later that he would just come up with names on the spot to help placate me.” She giggles, surprising Edelgard. “But I’m so glad he did, because to me, it’s so…” She trails off, searching for the right word. 

“Genuine?” Edelgard offers, and Byleth nods, seizing the word. 

“Yes, genuine!” She stares up at the approaching night sky and tries to make out the stars. Straining her eyes she thinks she can almost see the Dawn’s Radiance. _I wonder what its real name is._ “I don’t have many pleasant memories from before coming to Garreg Mach, so I hold this one very close to my heart.” 

Taking time to pick her words carefully, Edelgard responds with a soft tone. “You don’t talk much about your past. Even to me.” 

“I’m not very proud of what I was.” In truth, Byleth felt the most sorry for Jeralt. It had been easy for her to become the Ashen Demon, but it must have been brutal for him to watch his child grow up in such a manner. She remembered the pained glances, the strained words of praise. At the time none of it meant anything, simply more interactions that made no sense; most of her memories were a blur of rushing blood and biting metal. But the occasional moments of paternal affection stood out now, and she desperately reached for the warmth it brought. 

“That’s understandable. But…” Edelgard’s voice is calm, a reassuring gesture that Byleth is beyond grateful for. “He was proud of who you became. You know that, right?”

 _You were paying more attention than you let on, weren’t you?_

“Hmmmm.” Byleth closes her eyes and draws on the positive memories she has. It’s startling, she thinks, how much brighter they are than the rest. It’s easier to smile again. Edelgard notices. But she says nothing, instead joining the other woman in contemplative silence. 

They stay like that for a while as the sun begins to set behind the monastery walls, casting an orange haze over their faces. The stars are clear in the sky now, connecting the heavens to the world below. And Byleth can’t help but feel so incredibly grounded, tethered to that particular moment in time with the one person she’d want to share it with. 

Edelgard eventually breaks the silent atmosphere. “Say, Professor…” She wrings her hands together, the armored gloves rubbing off each other with small metallic _scratches_. “There’s something I don’t quite understand.” 

“Why I don’t blame you for my father’s death?” 

“Ah,” Edelgard says weakly. “You’ve had me figured out this whole time, huh?” 

“It helps that you can be rather predictable.” Byleth’s expression is mindful, her large green eyes fixated on the person next to her. “And I suspect you already know the answer to that question.” 

She nods slowly. “You’re rather predictable yourself, Professor.” The words are spoken clearly, but her inflection gives away the inner turmoil. “And I do know what you’d say. You’d tell me it wasn’t my fault, not directly or indirectly.” 

“And you’d respond by saying something about inaction being just as much of a choice as action,” Byleth points out. 

“To which you’d counter with some profound statement about personal responsibility, before making it very clear you’ve already forgiven me.” 

“See, that wasn’t so difficult.” Byleth’s lips echo a vague smile. “Since we seem to be on the same page, maybe we can skip to the part where you forgive yourself.” 

“I think we’d be missing a few steps.” Edelgard copies her teacher’s expression, though it appears more strained. “But I suppose I’m willing to try.” She bows her head in a discernible gesture of gratitude. 

Now Byleth’s smile is sincere. “Good girl.” She reaches a hand forward in an attempt to pat Edelgard on the head, but she gently swats it away. 

Edelgard groans. “Please don’t tease me like that.” 

“Consider it payback for all those jokes about tying me up. Or threats. When it comes to you, I can’t tell sometimes.” 

“Keep it up and you’ll find out.” But Edelgard’s smile hints at the former. 

—-

Captain Jeralt’s office is a complete mess, Byleth discovers. Books are strewn across the floor while the decorative suits of armor lay in collapsed messes. She gingerly steps over an overturned chair, her destination the shelves in the back. Misjudging the distance, she scrapes the back of her leg against the wood, causing her to yelp out a curse she had picked up from Manuela. 

_I think the worst part is I can’t tell if this place was ransacked, or we left it this way._

“Are you okay in there?” Edelgard’s voice rings out from the hallway. She had elected to stay outside after Byleth decided to check the room for her father’s personal effects. 

“I’m fine!” She grumbles to herself and rubs the affected area. Attempting to be more careful, Byleth makes her way to the bookshelf in the back of the room. Only a few tomes still line the shelves, and she moves them out the way to access the panel behind them. She pushes a particular section of the wood, and it pops out of place. Reaching past it causes her hand to touch leather, and she pulls out a small satchel. 

_Thank the goddess it’s still here._

Opening the bag carefully, Byleth takes out her father’s old diary. Flipping through it, she recalls the words inscribed within, detailing the early portions of her life. She’s still disturbed by the content; her apparent stillbirth, the sacrifice her mother had made to save her life, and the implications that Rhea had the power to perform such a procedure. _Rhea…_

Byleth’s thoughts towards the Archbishop were a complicated muddle of confused feelings and bitter memories. The kind motherly figure she presented herself as contrasted sharply with the harshness of her given commands. And while she didn’t despise her the way Edelgard seemed to, she knew that there were secrets buried deep in the miasma of her past that the woman would do anything to keep hidden. 

There’s a small shimmer of metal at the bottom of the bag, and Byleth almost drops it in surprise. _How could I have forgotten?_

Her father’s ring. Holding it in her hand, she remembers the day he had shown it to her, at the grave that had been her mother’s and now his as well. He had spoken of the love he held for Sitri, and the love she had carried for her family. And she had promised to one day give the same ring to the one whom she loved, just as he had loved Sitri. But her words were hollow, and the promise an assumed falsehood. 

_Love…_ To Byleth the concept was foreign, a fabric of the stories and lives of others, a footnote that had meant nothing to someone like her. She knew of the classical components of love: pining looks and thoughts, the desire for physical affection, painful feelings of separation when apart. These she had discovered through books, romantic tales of knights and princesses. She had also learned of the more carnal aspects from Dorothea; once she had realized the professor’s relative naiveté, the diva had delighted in shocking her over tea with lurid descriptions of intimate and sexual acts - primarily between women. Byleth hadn’t questioned why; it seemed the other woman knew something about her that even she didn’t. 

It had always been easy to assume that those feelings were simply meant for people other than her. She had accepted that. _The Ashen Demon could not fall in love._

So what were those sensations she felt? That pang of longing when she was by herself, the secretive glances she gave when together, the desire to reach out with more than just words. These feelings were new, scary in their overwhelming nature, but also beyond exhilarating. 

_Edelgard…_

Byleth clutches the ring tightly, utterly confused. She could almost swear there was a faint pounding in her chest, as impossible as that would be. 

But like a flash the doubt was there, invading the spaces her mind had left open. 

“What the hell do you know about love?” she whispers to herself. 

And she throws the ring back in the bag and closes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New canon: Jeralt never had "the talk" with Byleth, so Dorothea had to do it.


	9. Emperor and Teacher

Byleth had never been particularly self-conscious. Mercenary camps didn’t afford much privacy, only serving to reinforce her general lack of inhibition. Her sense of dress during those days as well as at the academy had been something of a shock to those who knew her either as the Ashen Demon or the Professor. In truth, her original fashion choice was picked to be purposefully provocative, a sort of silent protest against her own inherently absent individuality. Each wayward look and stare directed toward her chest, stomach or legs had served as a reminder to herself. 

So now, sitting on a hospital bed dressed in Edelgard’s far more conservative choice of clothing, Byleth felt no shame in taking off her shirt when asked. 

“Ahem,” Manuela coughs politely. “Not that the view isn’t pleasant, but I really only needed the dress shirt off, not the undershirt too.” 

Byleth shrugs and pulls the tight black fabric back on. She didn’t think it made much of a difference - the undershirt was plenty revealing by itself. Rolling it up to expose her stomach, she can see the outline of her wound, now more white than red. 

Summoning a current of white magic to her hand, the physician slowly traces it over Byleth’s scar. She feels the hum of energy as it passes by, sending not-quite-unpleasant currents through her abdomen. Taking her other hand, Manuela presses it onto the opposite side of Byleth’s stomach, parallel to where the wound was. 

“Alright Professor, now tell me if this hurts.” She pushes forward, digging slightly into her skin. 

“It’s uncomfortable, but not painful.” 

“Very good.” Manuela moves the hand to the other side of her patient’s body, next to the scar. “I’m going to do that again, and I want you to tell me if it feels the same, or hurts. Ready?” She repeats the motion, watching Byleth’s face closely. Her expression doesn’t change. 

“It feels the same.” 

“Excellent.” Manuela withdraws her hand. “How’s your breathing been? Any troubles moving around?” 

“None.” 

“So far so good then. I’m going to check your heart and pulse now.” She takes a hold of Byleth’s wrist, counting down as she presses her fingers to the inside of the joint. “Hmmm, a little slow, but nothing dangerous.” Leaning in close to her chest, Manuela listens for a heartbeat. 

_Here we go…_

And the physician pulls away as if bitten, staring at Byleth with something resembling awed shock. 

“I know,” Byleth says. “It’s always been like that.” 

Ever quick on the uptake, Manuela nods, though a little unevenly. “Well, I’ll admit that wasn’t quite what I was expecting. I’d ask how you aren’t a corpse right now, but considering that you’ve also been blessed by the goddess herself…” 

“It’s a long story. But so far it hasn’t negatively affected me much, so I just live with it.” Byleth almost chuckles at her accidental joke. Almost. 

“I see. Does Edelgard know?” 

Byleth shakes her head. “I’m not trying to keep it hidden from her, but I’m not sure if it’s something I should make common knowledge.” 

“Probably best you keep it to yourself then. Especially since I suspect a certain someone may have something to do with it.” Manuela gives Byleth a knowing look, and she’s reminded of just how uncanny her perception and intelligence is. “Thank you for trusting me with this secret.” 

“Well, you are my physician. If anyone should know, it’s you.” 

Manuela nods, then claps her hands together. “Ah, speaking of!” She grabs Byleth’s hands and pulls the woman to her feet. “Congratulations!” Seeing the professor’s confused reaction, she smiles. “As of today, you are completely healed. So I’m discharging you from my care.” 

“Just like that?” She had noticed that her movement was exactly how it had been in that brief period between waking up from the five year sleep and her encounter in the Goddess Tower. But she had wanted to wait until receiving an official all-clear before potentially hurting herself and irritating Edelgard. 

“Just like that,” Manuela says, nodding. “Obviously you’ll want to avoid taking a sword to the stomach again, but you are now cleared for any and all physical activities.” 

“I’m certainly ready to get some training in. Can’t make any promises about getting stabbed though. That’s up to Edelgard.” 

“Hmmm.” Manuela appears contemplative. “I know you’re joking, but she really was torn up about the whole incident. The poor thing wouldn’t leave your side, even during the surgery. I had to kick her out right before you woke up to force her to get some rest.” 

“Oh.” The knowledge inspires some confusing feelings for Byleth. Even though her injury had been Edelgard’s fault, knowing that she stayed with her the whole time made her happy. _We have kind of a messed-up relationship, don’t we?_

As if reading her mind, Manuela taps her chin while developing a small smile. “I daresay that you and Edelgard have quite the complex personal history. It’s a small wonder the two of you aren’t constantly at each others throats.” Her smile widens. “Or in each other’s arms.” 

Byleth glares at the physician, her expression incredulous. “You are awfully fond of implying things about her and I. If you have something to say, by all means, come out and say it.” 

But as usual, Manuela deflects the accusation. “I really would have thought you’d learn to ignore my ramblings by now.” But the look in her eyes conveys that she very much believed in what she had said. 

\---

It feels good to hold a sword again, Byleth thinks. She had been nervous about taking up a weapon, fearing the action would trigger the innate hunger of the Ashen Demon. But instead she feels she has control in a way that she had been missing since arriving in Enbarr. 

Giving the training sword an experimental swing, Byleth is relived at how easily her muscles obey the mental commands. She had worried about losing her combat prowess to time, but that fear was evidently unfounded. 

_Oh Sothis, this feels liberating!_ She strikes forward with the blade, spearing a training dummy with the tip of the sword. Twisting the pommel, she slashes outwards and the side of the mannequin explodes in a shower of burlap and stuffing. _Oops._

“I do hope you know what you’re doing.” Byleth whips around to see Edelgard leaning against the entranceway to the training yard. Her arms are crossed in front of her, and she looks partially amused and concerned at the same time. 

Lowering the sword, she gives the emperor a short wave. “Before you get upset, Manuela did say it was okay for me to do this.” She still remembers Edelgard’s half-threat to shackle her to a hospital bed early on. “I’m back to normal.” 

“I’m a little offended you think I’d jump straight to being angry at you.” And now Edelgard is smiling as she steps forward. “I’m just happy to see you fully recovered, my teacher.” 

Byleth nods, dropping the sword to her side to give the other woman her full attention. The late-morning light flows in from outside the door, bathing Edelgard in an aura of brilliant radiance. Several seconds slip past as she takes in her presence, and several more pass before Byleth realizes she’s staring intently at her. _Idiot, what are you doing that for? Pay attention._

“How very typical of you not to waste any time.” Edelgard crosses the dirt floor of the otherwise empty yard, making her way to the side Byleth is using. “Though I am grateful I no longer have to deny you this.” 

“Feeling guilty Edelgard?” Byleth wonders just how much of her actions are dictated by what’s come between them and how hard the two of them have been trying to work past it. 

“Yes,” she admits. “I don’t exactly enjoy the role I have to play here.” Byleth raises an eyebrow, and Edelgard returns the look with an abashed expression. “Alright, I _mostly_ don’t enjoy it. But you’ve been so beyond understanding with me… I can’t help but feel slightly ashamed because of that.” 

“Obviously these aren’t ideal circumstances.”

But Edelgard shakes her head. “I just don’t know how you do it. If I were in your position, I would despise my lack of freedom.” 

“Even if it were with me?” Byleth asks. 

“If I were your prisoner? Hmmm…” Edelgard puts a hand to her chin and ponders the question. “I suppose there could be worse things in the world.” And while the air she puts on is easygoing, it pains Byleth to know that the emperor is speaking from experience. 

“I suppose so.” Byleth does find the idea hard to imagine. Unlike her, she knows Edelgard would never have allowed herself to be in this position. Never again. 

“Hmmm.” Edelgard’s humming is speculative, her expression knowing. “Are you doing alright?” 

“What do you mean?” _No, I don’t think I am._

“Ever since we returned from Garreg Mach, you’ve been on edge.” Edelgard’s words are soft, tinged with worry. “If I’ve done something to wrong you, I want to know about it.” 

Byleth almost tries to deny it, but she knows that Edelgard wouldn’t believe that. _She’s not exactly incorrect, is she?_ “You haven’t done anything.” 

“Well, we both know that isn’t true.” Pursing her lips, Edelgard appears speculative. “If you tell me what’s wrong, I’ll do my best to help you.”

_Do you remember the person I used to be? If I told you how scared I am of that emptiness, would you believe me?_

“I…” _We promised to be honest with each other, didn’t we?_ “Lately… I feel like I haven’t been in control of myself. Of my emotions. I’m all over the place, and I don’t like it.” Edelgard remains silent, so she continues. “I know that’s to be expected, given the situation… but I’ve thought about it, and now that I’m healed, I was hoping you’d allow me to take on some responsibilities.” 

“Responsibilities? I suppose you must be feeling rather restless.” Edelgard tries to give her a confident smile. “If there’s anything you feel like doing, let me know. I’m sure I can make it work.” 

“I want to instruct. Let me be a teacher again.” 

And in that instant the smile on her face vanishes, replaced by an expression far more dour and remorseful. Byleth’s heart sinks into the depths of her stomach before the words even leave her lips. 

“No,” Edelgard says stiffly. “Absolutely not.” 

She bristles at how fast the denial had come. It was as if the emperor hadn’t even considered it, dismissing it out of hand without a single thought. 

“Can we at least discuss it?” Byleth hopes there’s a chance to get Edelgard to reconsider, despite knowing how painfully stubborn the woman could be. 

“There’s nothing to talk about. You asked me this once before, and I denied it.” Her voice is low, her tone almost flat. A dim flame burns behind her eyes, illuminating violet-red hues. It’s been so long since Edelgard had been genuinely stern with her that Byleth is caught off guard. “And I’ll deny it again.” She turns from the professor, signaling in her way that the argument was over. 

But Byleth refuses to accept that. Perhaps earlier she would have begrudgingly submitted to that decision, but it had been Edelgard who had suggested she stand up for herself, especially against her. _I hope you don’t come to regret those words._

“At least give me an explanation. You owe me that much.” 

Edelgard casts her a sideways glance, her gaze a piercing knife of white and purple. “I thought I made my point clear last time. I won’t have you participate in any way that elevates you from more than a simple prisoner. You aren’t a conscript.” 

_Simple? That would be throwing me in a cell. This is already far past simple._ “And if it’s what I want?” Clenching her fists to her side, Byleth feels the resentment welling up. “All I’m asking is to be allowed this. Just a handful of recruits, a single officer, anything.” 

There’s a flash of something - guilt perhaps - on Edelgard’s face, but she shakes it away dismissively. “I’m sorry, but you and I both knew there would be limitations in this situation.” The knife twists as her eyes narrow. “I’ll find something else for you to occupy your time with.” 

“Why?” Byleth questions. “Why is this the hill you’re willing to die on? It’s not as if I’d be joining your side or fighting for you.” 

“Because it’s not a hill,” Edelgard states, still looking away. “It’s a line. And I’m not willing to let you cross it.” 

“So is that it, your unyielding pride?” It hadn’t been her intention to be that harsh. _But Edelgard can be so frustrating at times!_ “That’s why you’re doing this?” 

“Byleth, I’m doing this to protect you!” 

Edelgard turns to face her as she speaks, almost angrily pleading, her eyes aflame with unbridled fear and torn passion. She stabs a finger at her, but it falls short, dropping limply to her side. Byleth almost flinches at how forceful Edelgard’s voice is, but she holds firm, maintaining eye contact with the emperor. 

“Edelgard, I-” 

“No,” she replies, interrupting the professor. “Please be quiet and listen to me.” Gesturing towards the steps leading into the dirt yard, she motions for Byleth to sit down, leading by example and taking the first seat herself. Obeying, Byleth places herself next to Edelgard, making sure to keep some space between them, even though she prefers to be closer. 

“Understand that I’m not doing this out of a stubborn sense of pride. I’m trying to keep you safe from the mess I’ve put you in.” She sighs heavily. 

“This line… if I let you do this, teach any member of the Imperial military, you’ll be crossing a point of no return. It may not seem like it to you, but you’ll become complicit in my conflict.” Taking the edges of her dress, Edelgard pulls on them to straighten it out. 

“By keeping you as a prisoner, and only a prisoner, I’ve granted you immunity from any potential retaliation following the war’s end. You can’t be blamed for helping me because you _didn’t_ help me. But if you cross that line… then it’s all out of my hands.”

 _This would only happen in a scenario in which you lose… are things really that bad?_

“If the Church finds out that you willingly assisted me, even something like this, you could be branded a collaborator at best, a traitor at worst. Do you think I want that?” Edelgard leans back, her hands adjusting to the position. Either on accident or on purpose, one of them finds their way on top of Byleth’s. She retracts it almost immediately, but Byleth reaches and grabs it, not letting go. A tiny smile finds its way to her lips, and she gratefully closes her hand around Byleth’s. “I know it’s not easy, but I’m trying to do whats best for you. My actions are my own, and it wouldn’t be fair to drag you down with me.” 

Byleth nods in understanding, but not in agreement. “And what if I say I still want to do it, and damned be the consequences?”

“Then I would call you a fool. A well meaning one, but a fool all the same.” She shakes her head. “Is it worth it, for something so trivial?” 

“It isn’t trivial. Not to me.” Byleth finds she is calmer now, and gently kicks her feet back and forth, much to Edelgard’s mild amusement. “I am not a collaborator or a traitor. I’m not an Adrestian, nor a Knight of the Church. I’m just me. And if Rhea, Dimitri or Claude feel like punishing me over this, so be it. But I’m done with doing nothing.” 

She turns to face Edelgard, taking her hand and bringing it close to her chest. In those violet irises her own reflection stares back, and Byleth feels an odd manner of peace. 

“I’ve made too few choices in my life, and I’m haunted by those I have.” _And the ones I failed to make._ She grips Edelgard’s hand tighter, and the emperor reciprocates the gesture. “So even if this one brings me nothing but pain further on… it will have been my choice, and I won’t regret that.” 

Byleth now pulls back, but she doesn’t let go of Edelgard’s hand. “Please Edelgard, let me teach again.” 

Eyes fixated on the hand she’s holding, Edelgard appears to think it over. And then to Byleth’s surprise, she gives off a nervous laugh. “How am I supposed to say no to that? How am I supposed to say no to _you_?” 

“So that means…” 

Smiling, Edelgard nods. “I’ll allow it.” If there’s anything else she wants to say, it’s drowned out by the massive hug Byleth envelops her in. The momentum of the action sends both of them careening to the floor, with Byleth landing squarely on top of the younger woman. Looking down, the she sees that Edelgard’s face is as red as her dress. She momentarily appears to struggle underneath the weight of the professor, but eventually sighs and relaxes. If either of them had a complaint about the position they are in, it goes unspoken. 

“Thank you Edelgard. Thank you for giving me this chance.” 

“I… you’re welcome.” Edelgard says quietly, seemingly having difficulty getting the words out as she looks up at Byleth. “Um, Professor?” 

“Yes?” 

More blushing. “You’re rather close. And still on top of me.” 

“Oh. Would you like to trade places?” This earns Byleth a shove that sends her tumbling off Edelgard and to the side. She groans good-naturedly. “That was uncalled for.” 

“I don’t even want to hear those words coming from you.” Edelgard sits up and brushes herself off. Byleth sits up as well, running a hand through her messy green hair. A part of her already misses the close proximity they had just shared. 

“However,” Edelgard states, “This doesn’t come freely. There’s a condition I’m placing on you.” 

“Anything.” 

“You’ll only have one student.” And then she gives the professor a smile so warm that Byleth swears her heart skips a beat. “Me.” 

This time she has to physically stop Byleth from pulling her into another hug. 

—

“Are you sure this is how you want to do it?” 

Edelgard twirls the wooden training axe in one hand as she paces the other side of the yard. Her armored boots kick up small amounts of dust with every step, which is then swept away by the motion of her cape. She gives Byleth a cautious look. 

“There’s no better way to assess your skills than with a practical test.” Byleth replies, taking her place across from her opponent. “I haven’t seen you in action in over five years. I need to make sure you haven’t gotten rusty.” _Not counting our so-called fight in the Goddess Tower._

“I could say the same to you, my teacher.” Edelgard’s smile is almost nostalgic, and Byleth can’t help but realize she had missed this just as much. “You better not go easy on me.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Raising her sword, Byleth takes a defensive stance. “Show me what you can do, Edelgard von Hresvelg.” 

As she assumed, Edelgard takes the first move, kicking off into a sprint towards her. _You’re so predictable, my student._ Advancing forward in small deliberate steps, Byleth plants her feet firmly on the ground, bracing herself for the approaching blow. Edelgard’s axe is angled upwards, so she compensates with a slight adjustment of her own blade. And in an instant the Adrestian Emperor crashes against her. 

The axe comes flying from the side, slamming upwards towards her right arm. It doesn’t connect. The flat of Byleth’s sword catches the brunt of the attack, and the wood bounces off harmlessly. Edelgard grunts as she forces herself to jump back and out of the range of the blade’s counterattack. 

“You’re going to have to do better than that, Edelgard.” She hopes that her pupil was still as susceptible to taunts as she had been back at the academy. But to her surprise her opponent only smiles knowingly, before backing up out of her reach. _Damn, I thought she would fall for that._

Now it’s Byleth’s turn to go on the offensive. Edelgard had lost almost all her momentum and speed by choosing to disengage after the initial strike, and Byleth decides to punish her for it. She takes one small step forward, noting that Edelgard makes a slower but similar movement backwards. Instead of repeating the action she doubles the length of her next step, and to her delight, finds that Edelgard miscalculated, taking only a half step back. Slamming forward with her sword, she aims directly for the emperor’s shoulder. 

As if anticipating this, Edelgard twists her upper body to dodge the blow. Darting past the blade, she swings wide with her weapon, hoping to score a hit on Byleth’s now exposed side. _That’s a good move. Well executed._

_Too bad I taught it to you._

And Byleth rushes into the path of the axe and then moves past it, finding herself almost face to face with Edelgard. Her swing goes nowhere, missing the professor by mere seconds. Byleth gives her a big grin, and Edelgard’s eyes go wide as she realizes she’s trapped. 

“Sorry about this.” And she kicks Edelgard on the side of her right leg, sweeping it out from under her. With a yell the emperor falls to the floor, and before she can fight back, Byleth’s sword finds its way to her throat. 

The entire battle had lasted less than ten seconds. 

“That’s checkmate.” 

Edelgard growls at her. “That was dirty.” 

Shrugging, Byleth pulls the blade away. “What do you expect for an ex-mercenary? There’s no honor in battle, just life or death.” She holds out a hand and Edelgard takes it, rising to her feet. And though she pouts for a minute, Edelgard eventually sighs, then bows respectfully towards Byleth. 

“Thank you for not holding back, my teacher. It’s clear I still have a lot to learn.” She looks up with a grateful smile. “I’m honored to be your student again.” 

Byleth bows in return. “And I’m honored to be your teacher, Your Majesty” They both look at each other and break out in matching sheepish grins. 

“As flattering as I find that, it sounds so… odd coming from you.” Edelgard shakes her head as if ridding her mind of the words. “Such formality doesn’t suit you.” 

“You think so? It’s kinda fun.” She makes an exaggerated bowing motion, coming up with a flourish. “Your Imperial Majesty” 

Edelgard’s face is bright red and Byleth notices, as much as she tries to use her hand to hide it. “Professor, please don’t. That’s far too embarrassing.” 

_She’s kind of cute when she’s flustered._

—

“So… you’re teaching again?” Hubert is rarely confused, but he doesn’t attempt to hide it now. The three of them are sitting together in Edelgard’s office, while she intently works on a stack of papers he had placed on her desk. 

Byleth nods. “Just practical combat drills and instruction. Obviously we’re a little past classroom learning at this point.” 

“And this was the professor’s idea?” 

“It was,” Edelgard says, not looking up as her quill continues to scratch her signature on another document. “I was quite against it at first.” 

“You used the line metaphor?” 

“Yes, I used the line metaphor.” She still doesn’t look up as she speaks. “Don’t complain Hubert, this is a good thing.” 

“That’s debatable. But I suppose all that time the two of you spend together won’t be a total waste now.” 

Edelgard briefly flashes her eyes up at him. “If you have a problem with the way I spend my free time, you are more than welcome to take it up with the Minister of the Imperial Household.” 

“You mean I should keep it to myself.” 

“Ah, so we’re on the same page.” Edelgard’s smile is good-humored, and Byleth breaks out in a fit of giggles. Hubert groans, but even he can’t help but grin slightly. He stands up and brushes himself off. 

“If the Professor can hone your skill in battle to be as sharp as your wit, then perhaps I have nothing to worry about.” He grabs Byleth by the shoulder. “Come now, let’s leave Her Majesty to finish without us distracting her.” 

“That would be appreciated.” And now Edelgard looks up, her gaze focusing on Byleth, a warm smile on her lips. “I’ll see you at dinner?” 

“Of course.” As she passes under the doorway, Byleth turns to Edelgard and enters into a deep bow. “Your Supreme Excellency.” 

She barely manages to catch Edelgard’s burning expression before Hubert pulls her into the hallway. 

—

“Here,” Hubert says as he hands Byleth a cup of coffee. She takes it but waits to drink, knowing the liquid needs time to cool. Hubert has no such hesitation, taking a small sip before placing it down. He folds his hands on top of the desk, then leans forward. 

“I suppose it’s time we have another discussion, hm?” His green eyes are piercing, though Byleth cannot detect if it’s with ill-intent or skepticism. “I must admit, this hasn’t gone quite the way I expected it to.” 

“What did you expect?” 

Reaching into his desk, Hubert pulls out a large wrought-iron key. He places it down, and the soft _thud_ it produces echoes in the room. “Do you know what this is?” 

_You really are fond of answering my questions with your own._ “I presume it’s the key to a cell. My cell.” 

Hubert nods. “Very good. I’ve actually had it prepared for you since the moment you arrived here, but Lady Edelgard insisted on giving you some manner of personal freedom. I still don’t quite agree with that.” He shrugs. “But so far you’ve been nothing but cooperative.” 

“Disappointed?” 

The question causes Hubert to snort, somewhere between a smirk and a laugh. “I’ll admit it would probably be easier if you were belligerent. I could just lock you in that cell and throw away the key.” 

Byleth admits that it probably would be easier as well. To strain and clash against real metal bars was a tangible conflict, instead of drifting in this sea of uncertainty. 

“Professor, would you mind a hypothetical?” Hubert’s tone is surprisingly inquisitive, something Byleth didn’t expect. As a student he had hated such questions, preferring the real and practical over the imaginary and creative. Not waiting for an answer, he continues. “If I were to set you free, would you join the fight against the Empire?” 

“I don’t know.” To Byleth, the answer is insecure. To Hubert, it’s honest. “I don’t like the idea of being on any side in this conflict.” 

“I see.” He tilts his head slightly, studying her. “But you did once fight against us, and you did so willingly. So you understand my reservations, even if Lady Edelgard doesn’t share them.” 

And Byleth does understand, because if the uncertainty is this excruciating for her, she can’t even imagine what it’s like for him. If Edelgard still harbored mistrust she hid it well, but Hubert was open about how conflicting the entire situation was. _And he isn’t even wrong._

“Hubert, will you give me that key?” She’s a little surprised to be asking this, but after today Byleth wants nothing more than something solid to hold onto. 

If Hubert thinks it’s an odd request, he doesn’t show it. He drops the key in her open palm, and she examines it. _What an ugly thing. It’s perfect._

“Give me some rope.” He raises an eyebrow, but reaches into the bottom drawer of his desk and pulls out a short and thin piece of cord. Running it through a hole in the top of the key, Byleth ties it at each end, then pulls the makeshift necklace over her head. The key hangs on top of her chest, standing out amidst the light patterns of her clothing. 

“Quite the potent symbol, Professor.” 

“I think I should embrace what I am. If you or Edelgard ever decide you can’t trust me, not fully, just take the key from my neck and lock me in that cell.” 

“And what would you say you are?” 

“A pain in the ass.” And this earns genuine laughter, something of a rarity for Hubert. She joins him, and they laugh together for what she realizes might be the first time. When he stops, he decides to wash it down with coffee. 

Byleth finds it almost endearing how he closes his eyes to savor it. She picks up her own cup and takes a sip, deciding that even though she prefers tea, coffee has its merits. Bitterness didn’t always have to be a bad thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Hubert is totally the type of person to keep some rope in his desk. You never know when you might need it. 
> 
> Also... 
> 
> Holy crap. As of part 8, this story has received 400 kudos, which is insane to me. I certainly didn't expect this story to get any attention when I wrote that first chapter, but now it's done better than I could have thought. I don't quite understand it, but I'm extremely grateful. 
> 
> For everyone that reads, gives kudos or leaves a comment, thank you so much. Evidently I'm doing something right, and I hope to continue doing so. Thank you everyone.


	10. A Monster in the Dark

“Again.” 

Raising her weapon, Edelgard charges at Byleth. Her sword is held at an angle, a stance meant for piercing. The benefit to this posture, Byleth had explained, was that it was harder to block or parry than a slashing blow. 

_Harder. Not impossible._

Right as the sword crosses the threshold, Byleth casually flicks her own weapon upwards and Edelgard suddenly finds herself completely disarmed as the sword flies out of her hands. With an almost playful spirit, Byleth lightly pokes Edelgard in the chest with the wooden blade. 

“Dead.” 

Groaning, Edelgard steps back. She’s evidently disappointed in the outcome of that bout, and doesn’t attempt to hide it. Byleth raises a hand for her attention. 

“What did you do wrong?” Her tone is strict, but not harsh. There’s an air of forgiveness that lingers in her voice. 

“I…” But she doesn’t seem to be sure herself. “I did it as you taught me. Body tilted forward, sword at a slight angle.” 

“And what’s the problem with using a move on the person that taught it to you?” 

Understanding dawns on Edelgard’s face, and she nods eagerly. “I should have altered my attack to account for that. Of course you’d be able to deflect it.” 

“Exactly. Using standard combat arts is one thing, but if your opponent also knows them, you might find yourself easily countered.” Byleth walks over and picks up Edelgard’s weapon, then hands it to her. “Against a well-trained enemy, you need to be able to deviate enough to keep them guessing.” 

“I see. That’s very practical.” Edelgard bows slightly. “Thank you, my teacher.” 

“Don’t thank me yet,” Byleth says as she steps back and holds up her sword. “Now it’s your turn.” 

Edelgard raises her own sword confidently, smirking. “I think you’ll find I’m a quick study.” 

“Speak with your actions, not your words.” Without a further remark, she charges at Edelgard. 

The emperor assumes a defensive stance, holding her weapon in the position Byleth had taught her. She places one foot to her side and another in front, attempting to plant her body against the incoming blow. 

Byleth is upon her in an instant, and her sword veers down towards Edelgard’s torso. Attempting to mimic the action as Byleth had shown, she quickly swings upward, hoping to intercept the blade. 

Instead Byleth’s sword crashes into her shoulder, and she drops hers to clutch at it. 

“Agh,” Edelgard groans, nursing the hit. Byleth signals for her to listen. 

“What did you do wrong?” She asks again.

“Ugh, I swung too early.” Edelgard says. “My sword was already past its position by the time yours was in it.” 

“Correct.” Byleth picks up the dropped weapon and passes it to her. Placing her hands over Edelgard’s, she helps properly adjust her grip and placement. If she noticed the slight reddening of her face as she did so, the professor doesn’t remark on it. 

“Let’s try that again.”

—

It’s late in the evening when they finish their training. Both women are coated in perspiration, panting as they sit down together to cool down and rest their aching muscles. Handing Byleth a water canteen, Edelgard takes smaller sips from her own while the professor drinks the contents of hers down in one gulp. 

“We could probably use a bath,” Edelgard admits. “That was far more exhausting than I expected.” 

“Did you expect me to go easy on you?” Byleth lays down, content to rest like that. “You’ve got five years of missed combat training to make up for.” 

Laying down next to her, Edelgard smiles. “That’s hardly fair, seeing as you’ve been asleep all that time.” 

“Tell you what, once you beat me in one duel, I’ll admit you don’t actually need me.” 

Groaning, Edelgard playfully hits Byleth on the shoulder. “Remind me, whose idea was this?” 

“That depends, was I the one who insisted on being made your teacher?” Byleth turns her head to see Edelgard is blushing at that statement. She grins wickedly at her. “You know, you really caught me by surprise with that.” 

“You basically tackled me in response!” Edelgard’s retort only causes her to blush harder after saying it. 

“Should I not have done that?” 

“Probably not,” Edelgard states. “But I’m glad you did.” If she’s embarrassed by admitting that, Byleth can’t tell, as the emperor turns her head away. 

_It’s strange,_ Byleth thinks, _we were never this open and comfortable around each other back at the monastery. Close yes, but there had always been this wall between us. But maybe… maybe that was between the Ashen Demon and the Flame Emperor, not Byleth and Edelgard._

_Is this what it took to break down that wall?_

Byleth giggles at the thought. The idea that Edelgard taking her prisoner was what had brought them closer together makes her want to laugh at the irony. 

“Something humorous on your mind, my teacher?” 

Shaking her head, Byleth continues to smile. “It’s nothing important. Just positive reflections.” 

“I see.” Edelgard is quiet for a moment before she adds, “It’s nice to hear you so happy.” 

“Hmmmm.” Byleth closes her eyes and hums softly. She was just happy to be there in that moment with her. Both are content to lie there as time passes slowly, basking in each others presence. Before either of them realize it, the moon is hanging overhead in the night sky. 

“Hey, Edelgard,” she says suddenly. But when she turns to her she sees the younger woman has fallen asleep right there on the floor, a half-smile on her lips. Her chest rises and falls slowly with her breathing, and Byleth can’t help but admire how peaceful she looks. 

Standing up, she scoops Edelgard into her arms with relative ease. Letting the emperor’s head lean against her shoulder, she carefully makes her way out of the training yard and into the palace proper. As she walks, Edelgard’s body presses against hers and Byleth isn’t sure if the feeling that brings is normal or not. 

Entering Edelgard’s bedroom, she’s surprised at just how plain the space is. A simple wooden desk and chair sit in one corner, while an unimpressive four-poster bed is nestled among dressers and armoires in the back. A wide variety of stuffed animals adorn one side of the bed, and she recognizes several of them as gifts she had given her as a student all those years ago. Byleth carefully lowers Edelgard onto the bed, drawing the sheets over her.

“B…Byleth…” 

She freezes. Edelgard’s lips move, slowly opening and closing as she speaks in her sleep. 

“By… leth… my teacher…” 

The expression on her face is calm, and Byleth is relieved she isn’t suffering a nightmare. _I hope whatever she’s dreaming of makes her happy._ She knows that it would be more respectful to simply leave, but she can’t help but want to stay and maybe hear more. 

“I…I’m…”

Edelgard exhales softly, the smile she wears growing wider. 

“I’m so happy… I was able to walk… this path with you.” 

The guilt that Byleth feels almost makes her collapse to her knees, and she flees before her body fails her completely. She makes it halfway to her own room before sinking onto the floor and against the wall. Lowering her head and pulling up her legs, she sits like that for a while, unsure if she has the strength to go further. 

She sees Edelgard standing before her in the Holy Tomb, and she screams at herself to lower the Sword of the Creator. But when she does there’s a flash of light, and Edelgard is gone. 

She sees her on the walls of Garreg Mach as demonic beasts howl and the screams of dying soldiers echo out around them. This time she raises her sword and it crashes against Edelgard’s armor, tearing the breastplate in two. Clutching at her chest, the Flame Emperor looks up at Byleth, and all they can do is stare at each other before both walk away without a word. 

She sees her in the Goddess Tower, the expectation of death a mask that she wears. 

Byleth wants to stay there on the floor of the palace and drown in her own shame until morning comes. 

But eventually all she can do is rise to her feet and move forward. 

She knows it’s what Edelgard would have told her to do. 

—-

The second Byleth opens the door to her bedroom she knows something is wrong. As if by instinct she reaches for a weapon, cursing to herself when she remembers she isn’t allowed one outside the wooden training swords. Peering into the darkness, she tries to make out shapes among the swirling dark colors. 

A candle suddenly lights itself, illuminating the room and its occupant. 

“Close the door Fell Star. We have much to discuss.” 

Sitting in a chair and facing her is the last person she wants to see. 

_Arundel…_ She had never truly hated anyone before - hatred being a strong emotion she never thought would ever properly manifest for her - but thinking of the Lord Regent caused her vision to narrow and her blood to boil. _I may actually hate this man._

Byleth briefly debates stepping back and shutting the door in his face, but knows that would just be delaying the inevitable. So she obeys and closes it, stepping forward as he rises to his feet. 

His cruel eyes never leave Byleth, a self-serving smile plastered across his face. She keeps her gaze fixated on him as well, not trusting that it was safe to look away; she still remembered how poorly their last encounter had ended. 

“Please, be at ease. I’ve merely come here to talk with you, away from prying eyes and ears.” 

She doesn’t trust his words for a second. Remaining rigid, she speaks slowly. “Then talk. I’ll listen.”

“You’ve certainly become more cooperative since last we spoke. Teaching the emperor again, is that right?”

“Yes,” Byleth says in a monotone voice reflecting no emotion. 

“Hmm.” Arundel has the look of a predator. “Tell me, was it difficult for Edelgard to convince you? Or did she have to be more… forceful?” 

_It was both of our ideas you unbelievable jackass._ But Byleth sticks to the story Arundel had been fed. “She made me see I was being foolish.” 

“Ah. Very good. Hopefully we can earn more of your obedience in time.” He takes a step in front of her, standing a bit to the side. “Tell me then, why do you comply? What is it that compels you?”

“Edelgard,” Byleth replies simply, continuing to stare straight ahead. 

“Of course. But what about her?” Arundel steps past her line of sight, and Byleth adjusts subconsciously. “Does she hold the whip slightly out of view, threatening discipline should you disobey?” Byleth says nothing, and he chuckles at her lack of response. 

“No, that can’t be it. Fear isn’t much of a motivator for you, as I’ve found out.” He circles around her, his eyes lit up with twisted amusement. “A reward, perhaps? A treat for your good behavior?” 

Byleth can barely contain the urge to strike the vile man square in the jaw. _How the hell has Edelgard managed to deal with this piece of shit for years?_ But she keeps her hands firmly clenched at her sides. No good would come from instigating a fight. Not here, not now. 

“I’m sure Edelgard can offer you many things. What is it she’s promised you?” Arundel slithers behind her, his voice whispering uncomfortably close. “Your freedom? No, you’ve hardly seemed eager to escape your cage.” 

_Shut up shut up shut up shut up…_

“Perhaps she’s giving you something more material? Do you like gold, Fell Star? She can certainly offer you plenty of that.” He snakes his way past Byleth’s shoulder and she shudders all over. But her position holds. She won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her squirm. 

“Or is it power you crave? Help her win the war and take your share of the spoils.” He moves away, stopping directly in front of her. His face is contorted in a mimicry of pretend concern. “Maybe… maybe she appeals to a different yearning, hmm? A more _base desire_.” And he laughs, an ugly inhuman sound. “She is a beautiful woman.” 

Byleth hasn’t realized she’s stepped forward until she’s inches away from the Lord Regent. Her hands are almost past her chest, aiming directly for his face. If she had her way his judging eyes would be lying gouged out on the floor. But Arundel doesn’t flinch, and smiles knowingly. 

“Come now, _Professor_ ,” he says, enunciating her title mockingly. “There’s no need for this. Unless you want to make things more difficult for Her Majesty?” 

Grimacing, Byleth withdraws, letting her fists fall back to her side. Arundel laughs again, deriving a seemingly sadistic pleasure from holding the upper hand. “Very good, very good. Edelgard has you well trained.” He attempts to cup Byleth under the chin, but she grabs his wrist and tosses his arm away. “Now now, I’m only trying to make you understand. Do you really think your loyalty to her is worth anything?” 

Byleth tries to drown out the filth spewing from the man’s mouth, but finds it difficult. He is talking about Edelgard after all. _What the hell is his problem? And what is he trying to say?_

“You may think that she values you as you are, but does she really? Only a fool would think she’s planning on letting you go at all, even if she wins this war.” 

This catches her attention, and she slowly turns her head to stare at him. His smile widens, and she realizes he’s caught her in his trap, like a hunter about to strike. 

“Those in positions of power are always loath to give up their possessions. And you, Fell Star, are certainly her favorite. I imagine she will come up with any number of excuses to keep you chained to her side, metaphorically or otherwise.” He leans forward, and Byleth hates that his eyes are so similar in color to Edelgard’s. “I can offer you something better.” 

“There’s nothing you can give me that I’ll take.” 

“Oh, found your voice have you?” Arundel chuckles. “And don’t be so sure about that. You are far above these creatures, so why limit yourself?” He gestures to himself and then her. “Those such as you and I, we are much more than they could ever dream. They are nothing more than savage beasts to the likes of us.” 

“Funny, “ Byleth says without humor, “Solon said the same thing right before I slit his throat.” 

But it’s in that moment that she realizes the mistake she just made. Any goodwill earned by her compliance was now rendered null by her brash comment. 

Arundel’s hand twitches, and Byleth falls to her knees as purple tendrils materialize from the ground and around her neck. Like chains of smoke, they constrict her throat as they pull her onto the floor, and when she tries to claw at them her hands pass through, as if they didn’t exist. 

“Now then,” Arundel speaks calmly as he stands above Byleth, “I hope you understand that even my patience has its limits. You may be the Emperor’s favorite plaything, but I wonder if she will choose you over winning the war? Because she can do that without you.” 

“I..” Byleth tries to speak, but the tendrils around her throat are choking, and she finds it growing harder and harder to breathe. 

“Let me make this clear. I tolerate your presence because you could still prove a useful asset to us, in due time. But should you insist on these petty acts of defiance, I will be forced to _break_ you.” And for a split second Arundel’s entire body shimmers, and Byleth swears she sees a pale figure instead. But her vision is already growing spotty, and she closes her eyes as she coughs and wheezes for breath. 

There’s another twitch of the Lord Regent’s hands, and the tendrils vanish, causing Byleth to collapse on the ground. As she gasps for air, he reaches down and places a hand on her chin, pulling her head up to look at him. “Next time you decide to speak to me, you will show me proper respect. Is that understood?” 

Nodding her head, Byleth glares at him as she picks her next words carefully. “Go fuck yourself. My Lord.” 

She expects to get hit, struck by magic or physical force as punishment for her insubordination. Bracing for it, she’s surprised when Arundel only shakes his head in disappointment. 

“Tsk tsk,” he says as he pulls back and steps away. “Perhaps the blame is on me for expecting more from a cur like you.” 

Byleth says nothing, choosing instead to continue glaring at him. 

“I would love nothing more than to reach inside your chest and pull out that heart of yours with my own hands. But you are still useful to me, even with your disrespect and disobedience.” A wicked smile adorns his face. “The emperor’s affection for you… what do you think she would give in exchange for your safety?” 

And now Byleth’s blood runs cold. She could tolerate threats to her own being - having never cared much for self-preservation. But to bring Edelgard into this, for her own mistakes… 

“Don’t,” she whispers, somewhere between a plea and a warning. And she realizes that this might have been his plan all along. He hadn’t even needed to lay the trap; she had dug the pitfall herself and fallen in, dragging Edelgard down with her. 

“I’m afraid it’s all out of your hands now, Fell Star.” Dark energy arcs its way between his hands, settling on his palms. “Don’t worry. Edelgard learned to be obedient a long time ago.” He raises his arms towards her while Byleth struggles to her feet. But Arundel is faster, and the magic strikes her before she can launch herself at him. 

She isn’t sure if it’s the spell or pain that forces her into unconsciousness first… 

—

...and finds herself in the land of the living as she feels someone gently take her hand. She opens her eyes, almost blinded by the new morning sunlight. 

_I’m in my bed._

Edelgard is kneeling in front of her, and their eyes meet and linger on each other. There’s sadness in those violet irises, as if she’s lost something important. An air of apprehension forms between them that Byleth can’t properly place, and so she just wraps her hands around Edelgard’s, hoping it brings them both some comfort. 

It appears to work, and Edelgard tries her best to give a reassuring smile, even if it comes across as faint and half-hearted. 

“Edelgard, I…” But Byleth doesn’t know what to say. Arundel’s threat hangs over her head, and she’s terrified of finding out that he had made good on it. That her own foolish behavior had hurt someone close to her… 

“Hush,” Edelgard says, planting a finger on Byleth’s lips to silence her. “I don’t want to hear an apology from you.” 

“But I…” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” She sees the disagreement on Byleth’s face. “I don’t want you to be beholden to that monster. I don’t want you to be his prisoner too.” 

“Edelgard… what did you and Arundel talk about?” 

“We didn’t talk. That would imply I had a say in anything.” Edelgard turns her hand over and Byleth lays her palm on top of hers. This had almost become a new language for them, a way of speaking without words, of expressing how they felt even if those feelings were cloudy and unsure. “He demanded.” 

“Oh.” Byleth understands. “He wants to punish me.” And Edelgard nods in confirmation. 

“I know nothing with him is ever this simple. I’m sure there’s some other scheme at play, and this is the first step. But yes, he wants to rectify what he calls ‘a mistake’.”

 _Why didn’t he do it earlier, when he had me at his mercy?_ But she already knows the answer to that. It would have been inefficient of him not to gain some leverage over Edelgard as well. 

There’s a horrifying thought forming in Byleth’s mind, and she asks, “Edelgard… what did he threaten you with?” 

Her reply is quiet, almost impossible to hear. “If we don’t do as he says… he said he’ll take you away from me.” 

_Oh._ “And what does he want from me? What would my punishment be?” 

“I don’t know. He mentioned something about muzzling you…” 

And that causes Byleth to burst out in laughter, much to Edelgard’s surprise. “He really thinks of me as less than human, doesn’t he?” 

Edelgard purses her lips, as if keeping some stray thought to herself. “I managed to get him to partially reconsider. He’s offering you an out.” 

_And what did you have to give in exchange for that?_

“An out?” _I’m almost scared to think what he could consider a substitute…_

“Yes.” But Edelgard doesn’t look happy about it. “I don’t know exactly what, so if you want to refuse…” 

“I’ll do it.” 

Edelgard’s expression is almost forlorn, but she nods. “I suppose that would be easiest. I just hate that you even have to go through this at all.”

“I think I can stomach whatever he demands of me.” Byleth gives Edelgard’s hand a hard and reassuring squeeze. “The last thing you need is another conflict. Not while you already have one.” 

She sighs but reciprocates the gesture, and almost seems to smile. “Byleth, you really need to stop being so selfless one of these days.” 

The Professor’s heart flutters slightly at Edelgard using her name, even though that should have been impossible. “Not when it’s for someone I care about.” 

Without warning Edelgard leans forward and pulls Byleth into a hug, resting her chin on the other woman’s shoulder. “My teacher…” she whispers, the words slightly muffled by the abundance of green hair. 

“You have no idea how selfish I really am,” Byleth whispers back. 

Edelgard doesn’t respond with words, her hands lightly rubbing Byleth’s back instead. She wishes that in this moment of time, between just the two of them, this could have happened under better circumstances. But when she feels Edelgard tighten her embrace, Byleth realizes that beyond everything she isn’t upset or afraid, just oddly relieved. 

_Care… that’s the right word, is it?_

_Is it just that?_

—

Byleth finds herself sitting in front of the Lord Regent, a table between them. Despite its length she still finds herself wishing he was further away. Edelgard and Hubert stand on either side of her, and she’s grateful for their presence. 

Arundel is all smiles, sadistic and cruel as they are. He leans forward, folding his hands over each other. “Well now Fell Star, your master informs me you’re willing to listen to what I have to say.” 

“I am,” Byleth says, and she feels Edelgard place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “For Edelgard,” she clarifies. 

Waving his hand dismissively, Arundel doesn’t drop his facade of cheerfulness. “It matters not why you obey, only that you do.” He slides forward a document. “I have a mission for you. A chance to prove your loyalty.” 

“What is it?” 

“A day from now, Edelgard and Vestra will be leaving on a series of planned troop inspections. You will accompany them.” He places a finger on the paper, which Byleth now sees is a map of Adrestia. “There’s a small village near the former Hyrm territory, in between two of their planned stops. A young man there has been poking his nose in business that doesn’t belong to him. My business, and that of my associates.” 

“You want me to make him stop.” 

“I want you to kill him.” Arundel flashes his teeth as he says this. “Consider this the means through which you prove I didn’t make a mistake sparing your miserable life.” 

“But…” Byleth has a feeling she knows the answer, but asks anyway. “Surely you could solve this problem yourself, with relative ease. Why do you need me?” 

“Because this is where the real tests lies. I believe all three of you are well acquainted with this individual.” 

_Oh no…_

“Who?” 

Arundel’s face almost seems to tear itself apart under the width of his smile, and he brings his hands together in a gesture of delight. 

“A certain former nobleman. While the stature of his name has lessened in the recent years, you all know him as Ferdinand von Aegir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh I rewrote large parts of this chapter so many times... ahhhhhh
> 
> Parts of it may be a mess as a result, but at least it's an entertaining mess?


	11. The Nobleman

Byleth wakes up in a cold sweat with a sore back. This was unusual enough for her, as years of roughing it as a mercenary had caused her body to acclimate to almost all manners of uncomfortable sleeping positions. 

_Damn, I’ve had it rather easy as of late._ Between the monastery at Garreg Mach and the royal palace in Enbarr, she had grown used to sleeping on a comfortable bed instead of in a tent or even on the ground. 

“Are you alright, my teacher?” 

Sitting up from the bench she had been napping on, Byleth looks across from the carriage she’s sharing with Edelgard, who was staring intently at her. But there was only concern in those violet eyes, and that instilled a sense of calm for Byleth. 

“Just a bad dream. Nothing to worry about.” She finds it has already started to fade from memory. 

“You know I’m going to worry. But I won’t pry.” Edelgard looks out the window. “It appears we’ve arrived at our destination.” 

Byleth nods gratefully. They had been on the road for several days now, traveling between villages and military forts, stopping late at night and leaving early in the morning. Sometimes Hubert would ride in their carriage, but most often he stayed with General Ladislava and the rest of the royal guards. Hoping that it meant he was plotting something, she was also thankful for the time she could spend alone with Edelgard. 

Because she was beyond stressed. Most of her life had been spent solving problems with a sword, while at the Officer’s Academy she had accustomed herself to mediating disputes among students and staff with words. But Arundel represented a problem that she couldn’t resolve with either weapons nor speech. Attacking him would earn Edelgard the ire of his compatriots, whose power and influence Byleth knew almost nothing of. And there was no chance she could convince him to stand down or change his mind - even Edelgard admitted difficulty in that matter. 

Instead she was stuck, in a trap partially of her own making. And the most irritating part, she thought, was that no matter how much she tried, Edelgard refused to accept any apologies over it. Every time Byleth had attempted to express her regret, Edelgard prevented her from doing so - with well placed commands, distractions or small physical touches.

Getting up from the bench she was resting on, Byleth makes her way over to Edelgard, sitting down as close to her as she can. She reaches out her hand, and as had become their ritual Edelgard takes it and smiles. 

“Edelgard-” Byleth attempts, but that’s as far as she gets before being cut off. 

“You aren’t about to try to apologize again, are you Professor?” 

“Of course I am.” 

“In that case, I order you not to.” 

Byleth sighs, but not with ill intent. “Edelgard, you can’t keep deflecting me like that.” 

“I can actually.” There’s something sly about the way she looks at Byleth that makes it impossible for the professor to actually be upset with her. “The nice thing about being both emperor and your jailor is that when I give you a command, I expect you to obey it.” 

_Two can play at that game._ “Well, I’m going to do it anyway, and you can just punish me for it.” She gives Edelgard’s hand a rebellious squeeze, running a thumb over the outline of the armored segments of her bright red gloves. Turning to face her directly, Byleth looks right into Edelgard’s eyes, which seemingly causes the woman to blush from how forward the gesture is. “I’m sorry. I really, truly am. I let that man get under my skin and now all of us are paying the price for it.” She hangs her head slightly. “I should have been better.” 

“Yes, you should have,” Edelgard admits. “But like I’ve told you before, apologies aren’t necessary. I’d expect anyone to lash out, or worse, against someone as vile as Arundel.” 

_And yet you’re always trying to be strong and indifferent around him. That’s how I should have acted, not like an undisciplined mercenary._

“You know…” Edelgard adds, her head tilted in curiosity. “You haven’t told me what exactly he said that made you so furious.” 

Byleth thinks on it, and realizes there’s no way she can tell her all the cruel and derogatory statements she had heard. “I… well, he said a lot of horrible things about you that I really didn’t agree with.” _That came out rather lame._

“Oh?” Edelgard appears slightly amused at that acknowledgement. “So you were defending my honor?” 

Now it’s Byleth that blushes. “I wouldn’t put it like that, but yes, I suppose I was.” 

“Hmmm.” Leaning to her side, Edelgard rests her hand against Byleth’s arm “That was unnecessary. But thank you.” 

There was something about how close Edelgard was that made Byleth feel even more guilty. “I just don’t understand how you can control yourself around him.” 

Edelgard’s reply is slightly distant, like a recollection of memories best left unspoken. “I learned from an early age not to fight back.” She looks up at Byleth, her expression pained. “Or someone I cared for would wind up hurt.” 

_Oh._ Byleth is almost afraid to say anything else, and the two sit together in silence for a while. Neither pulls away from each other, content at least to remain in close proximity. 

“We’ll get through this, my teacher.” 

Byleth nods. She had no idea where Edelgard drew her strength and confidence from, but it was starting to inspire her as well. Arundel may have trapped them in a corner, but they were fighters through and through. 

“Will our plan work?” Calling it a plan was generous. In truth it was more of a desperate gamble, all hinging on elements outside of their control. 

“That’s up to Ferdinand. If he’s willing to hear us out…” 

“You think he might not?” 

“We didn’t exactly leave off on good terms.” Edelgard and Hubert had so far refused to elaborate on what exactly had happened between the three of them. “It’s been two years since then, and I have no idea how he’ll react to your circumstances.” 

“He might try and ‘free’ me.” Byleth giggles at the notion. “It would be the noble thing to do.” 

“I know you’re joking, but I really don’t want to fight him over you.” 

“But you’d win, right?” Byleth teases. “You wouldn’t give me up that easily.” 

That earns her one of the deepest blushes she’s ever seen Edelgard give. “You aren’t an object, Professor.” She turns her head away to the side, as if trying to hide the redness of her face. “But yes, I’d rather not. I’ve…” Bringing a hand to her face, Edelgard almost whispers her next works. “I’ve gotten rather used to having you in my life again.” 

_Oh._

She places her hand back on Edelgard’s, gently wrapping her fingers around the other woman’s palm. “I must admit, I’ve gotten used to it too.” 

The emperor doesn’t respond, only humming lightly in flustered contentment. 

Echoing Edelgard’s earlier words, Byleth closes her eyes and feels a surge of confidence. _We can do this. Find Ferdinand and force Arundel to stand down._

“We’ll get through this. Together.”

—

Hubert finds them like this some time later, exchanging no thoughts but those that could be conveyed through small moments of physical affection. If either of them were embarrassed by it, they don’t show it, and he makes no mention of anything. To Byleth, she couldn’t even recall at what point they had become so comfortable with each other that simply reaching for the other’s hand was now something done without a second thought. 

_This is normal, right?_

“Ahem,” Hubert coughs. The two women look up at him, breaking off contact for his sake. “Your Majesty, Professor.” 

“What do you have to report?” 

“Our scouts have returned, and as our intelligence suggested, the village is completely abandoned. There is some evidence of recent movement inside, suggesting our target is still in the vicinity.” 

“I see. Inform Ladislava that the Professor and I will make our move. She’s to keep the troops on alert.” 

“As you command, Lady Edelgard.” Hubert reaches into his coat and pulls out a sealed letter, handing it to her. “The item, as we discussed.” 

“Thank you. Oh, and don’t forget, but I don’t want you anywhere near us until after all this is sorted out. For yours and Ferdinand’s sake.” 

Hubert sighs, but doesn’t protest. “As you command, Your Majesty.” He bows and walks off towards the gathered soldiers. 

Byleth leans forward, gaze lingering after him. “So, Hubert and Ferdinand…” 

“Don’t ask,” is all Edelgard says. 

—

The village in Hrym is tucked away in the corner of the large mountain range, isolated from the rest of the country. It was clear straight away that the settlement had been abandoned - vines and moss grew over all the houses that weren’t already collapsing on themselves. Broken wagons sat next to an overgrown field that might have once housed livestock. It’s a depressing sight to Byleth, who’s reminded of Remire. 

They walk past house after house, the shuttered windows and overgrown vegetation an ominous sign. Byleth feels a chill and pulls her cloak around herself - something was off, and she wasn’t the only one to sense it. Edelgard moved far slower than usual, scanning every street and corner. Gone was her usual confidence, replaced by a shared anxiety. 

“Maybe we should have brought Hubert,” Byleth complains. “Make this search go a lot faster.” She kicks a rock down the road, earning a glare from Edelgard. “Besides, how are we supposed to find someone here anyway? He could be in hiding or asleep or just doing something out of-” 

“Professor, I appreciate your concern, but please do be quiet.” Edelgard’s tone is harsh, probably more than she intended. Byleth sighs internally, but doesn’t fire back; she knows both of of them are nervous. 

They travel in silence for a while longer, eventually reaching a large town square. What used to be a marketplace sits in the center while a decrepit clocktower looms above, a large manor across the plaza rounding out the scene. 

“There,” Edelgard points to the manor house, which was just as overrun and decaying as the rest of the village. “We should start our search here, in the mayor’s residence. If there’s any information that Ferdinand was searching for, this is where we’ll find it.” 

Byleth says nothing, just raising an eyebrow when the other woman turns to look at her. Edelgard sighs loudly, having picked up on its meaning immediately. 

“Byleth, please. I was just feeling anxious; I didn’t mean to lash out at you.” 

She nods, hoping to convey she isn’t actually upset. “You feel it too, right? There’s something wrong here.” 

Any response Edelgard was going to give dies as the sound of wood slamming against wood cuts her off. Both women whip their heads towards the apparent source, a shutter covering a window on the second floor of the manor. 

“We’re being watched,” Edelgard whispers. She motions to the front door and the two of them take up positions below the awning. “What’s the plan Professor?”

“You’re asking me?” Byleth peers through the dust covered window carved into the door, but can’t make anything out in the darkness. 

“Well, you are the tactician.” 

“I _was_ the tactician.” But she doesn’t argue further, choosing to nod instead. “The noise came from the second floor, right side window. Let’s just take it slow and sweep the rooms one by one.” 

“Very good. I’ll signal Ladislava.” Edelgard fires a burst of flame magic from her palm into the air, sending it above the town before detonating it remotely so it spread out in visibility. “She’ll blockade the town in case we lose our target.” 

“Neat trick.” 

“Believe it or not, Manuela taught me that one. Now let’s move.” 

Opening the door, Byleth takes a step into the darkness of the house, her eyes straining to see. She’s about to move forward when she detects the faint blur of motion in the ink-dark blackness and the butt of a spear slams into her stomach, sending her flying out of the house and into the dirt. 

_Ugh, damn it._

Suddenly the edge of a spear pushes itself against the front of her throat. A familiar figure presses a foot down on Byleth’s wrist, pinning her to the ground.

She isn’t surprised to see who it is. The man wore a bright red-and-blue vest, positively glowing in the afternoon sun. Light steel pauldrons adorned his shoulders, contrasting with the long ginger hair that cascaded over it. 

_Ferdinand_

The tip of the spear moves away from her neck as Ferdinand moves it, revealing his own shock. 

“P-Professor?” 

“Hey Ferdinand.” Byleth tries her best to give a reassuring smile. “I like the hair.” 

Eyes growing wide, Ferdinand lowers the weapon. “It is you!” He stumbles across his words, his mouth opening and closing in utter disbelief. “… I mean… how are you…?” He stops, swallowing hard. Stray teardrops pool from his eyes and flow down his cheeks, dropping onto the floor like rain. “How are you here? How are you alive?” The hurt and astonishment is evident in his voice, and Byleth feels a wave of guilt wash over her.

“Sorr-” 

And suddenly he yanks Byleth to her feet, wrapping his arms around her in a dignified hug. He gently thumps a fist on her back, a greeting he had been fond of giving at the Academy. He pulls away, and even the dirt on his face can’t diminish the noble smile he gives her. 

“I can’t believe it’s you Professor. I can’t…” But he stops and shakes his head. “No, I can. If anyone could make their way back after what happened, it’s you. This wouldn’t even be the first time you’ve cheated death.” He winces as if in pain. “I attacked you! Oh goddess, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s alright. Trust me, Edelgard did worse when she first saw me.” She flashes the emperor a sly smirk.

“Edelgard…” Noticing her for the first time, Ferdinand turns in her direction. A hand was on her axe; she’d evidently been caught off guard by his attack and hadn’t made a move until it was already over. 

“Hello Ferdinand.” She greets him coldly. The two glare at each other for a moment. 

“I was surprised to see the Professor, but I’m not shocked to learn that you’re here as well.” 

Edelgard tilts her head slightly to the side. “Would you believe me if I told you I was here to help you?”

“No.” 

“You wound me Ferdinand.” 

“Trust is earned Edelgard. You understand why I feel this way, yes?” 

She nods. “I do. I can’t say I don’t deserve this treatment.”

He turns to Byleth, his face a mixture of confusion and trepidation. “And you Professor? Can I assume by your presence that you’ve defected to Edelgard?”

 _Ah, there’s a distinction there. Not defected to the Empire, but to Edelgard specifically._

“Ferdinand, it’s not like that.” Holding up her hands closely together, Byleth shakes her head. “I might as well be wearing shackles right now.” 

“She’s my prisoner,” Edelgard specifies. “In case the Professor’s phrasing doesn’t make that clear.” 

He looks between them with obvious uncertainty. It takes a moment, but eventually apparent understanding dawns for him, and he turns to Edelgard. 

“That’s rather despicable of you, Edelgard.” 

She doesn’t respond to his statement. 

Byleth reaches forward, putting a hand on Ferdinand’s shoulder. “Edelgard and I… we’ve come to a series of arrangements. It affords me a large amount of freedom.” 

He shrugs, causing her hand to roll off. “And I suppose that makes it okay?” 

“What I’m trying to say is, as far as this goes, I’m not upset.” But she does understand how strange it must be to hear that, as if she’s given in to Edelgard. “She makes no demands of me, and I’m not ill-treated.”

“I see.” He scratches the back of his head, hands running through the length of his long hair. His eyebrows furrow as if he’s deep in thought. “The whole situation doesn’t sit right with me, but if you say you’re safe, I’ll take your word for it.” 

Byleth and Edelgard glance at each other, a gesture that doesn’t slip by Ferdinand unnoticed.

“She is safe, right Edelgard?” 

—

Ferdinand was not happy. 

“… So let me get this straight - you stabbed the Professor, took her into your custody to both let her recover and keep her from joining a side in the war, and then claim you’re doing it for her safety?” 

“I am,” Edelgard says without hesitation, but a there’s a hint of concern in the way she raises her eyebrows after doing so, as if she knows what he’s about to say next. 

“Then what the hell Edelgard?” Ferdinand jabs a finger at her. “How is getting her involved with people like your uncle and his lackeys in any way _keeping her safe_?” 

She doesn’t respond straight away, looking instead at Byleth, almost as if for reassurance. Knowing the guilt she feels over their situation, Byleth reaches over and grabs Edelgard’s hand, squeezing it gently. Ferdinand notices, but doesn’t remark on the action. 

Infused with newfound courage, Edelgard nods. “You’re right Ferdinand. I’ve failed, and as a result the Professor’s life, as well as your own, is in danger.” Quieter, she adds, “That’s why I need your help.” 

“You’re asking me… for my help?” Her admission had seemingly caught him off guard; Byleth imagines it might have been the first time she had ever said those words to him. 

A nod. “I am. I understand if you want nothing to do with me. But please consider the Professor; I truly wish to keep her safe.”

Ferdinand’s features soften, and his gaze wanders back to Byleth and Edelgard’s hands, still wrapped around each other’s. Sighing, he tightens the grip on his spear. Then he holds out a hand, much to the emperor’s surprise. After a few seconds of contemplation she takes it, and they affirm each other’s commitment with a handshake.

“Alright, I’ll do what I can. But for the Professor’s sake. Is that clear?” 

A smile inches its way across Edelgard’s lips, and Byleth exhales in relief. 

“Now, how can I help?” 

“Let’s start with why exactly you’re here, and how you managed to get the Lord Regent’s attention.” 

“Ah.” Ferdinand looks behind him at the manor house he had emerged from. There’s something of a solemn expression adorning his noble features, and Byleth finds it doesn’t suit him. “It would be easier just to show you.” 

—

It takes less than one step into the house for the feeling of _wrongness_ to intensify. Byleth didn’t believe in ghosts - except when teasing a certain green-haired goddess - but she did believe in the ability for places to retain the emotions wrought there, forming atmospheres of malice and unease.

The first thing she notices is that every piece of visible furniture is completely smashed in place, as if beat down by a large foe. Large scratches are gouged in the floorboards and on the walls, ripping wood and stone alike. 

They penetrate further into the house, following Ferdinand closely. No one speaks, as if doing so would call forth the misery in the air and cause it to coalesce into a form far more solid. He leads them down the stairs, running deeper than what would be expected. They reach a hallway at the bottom, a large steel door at one end. 

Ferdinand stops in front of the door, placing one hand upon it. Byleth sees that whatever lock kept it shut was already broken, dashed upon the floor. He turns to them, completely serious in his demeanor. 

“Before we go in, I just want to warn you...” He sighs. “I have a sneaking suspicion that the two of you won’t be surprised by what I have to show you.” 

_What could he mean by that?_

Without further ado, Ferdinand pushes open the door, the hallway filling with the screeching of steel upon stone. The room beyond was pitch-black, impossible to discern. Reaching for a lantern hanging on the wall, Edelgard lights it with a spark of flame. She takes the lead, stepping into the room, shining light upon the interior. 

The room is small, almost akin to a library. Bookshelves are pressed against the walls, stacked with dark looking tomes and scrolls. 

It’s the walls that attract Byleth’s attention. Almost every square inch is covered in charts and graphs of the human body; cross sections and diagrams of major organs, lines depicting the layout of blood veins and major vessels. Small marks are scratched over certain parts, and something about them seems _familiar_ to Byleth. A large banner depicts the major and minor crests in a circle, the Crest of Flames at its center. 

“This is…” Edelgard shines her light across it, gasping sharply. Byleth can see her other hand curl into a fist. Ferdinand moves quietly behind her, watching her expressions closely. 

Conjuring a fireball in her hand, Byleth sweeps over the other side of the room, flickering shadows cast over the walls and furniture. In the center of the room are six chairs arranged in a circle facing each other. Examining them closer, Byleth sees that each has chains and shackles attached to the arms and legs. Putting a hand on one, she tries to push it over, but finds the chair is bolted to the floor. And when she lowers the light, it almost seems like the ground is stained in dried blood.

Ferdinand crosses over to the other side of the room, and his own torch unveils a wicked looking table adorned with leather straps. More blood coats the surface. Examining closer, Byleth sees that the table is slightly recessed, in close approximation to the shape of a human body.

“I’ve seen enough,” Edelgard hisses from behind her. “I’ve seen enough…” Byleth turns to her, noticing that she’s clutching the wall for support. Trying to gauge Edelgard’s reaction, Byleth sees that her breathing is unsteady. She appears to stare off blankly, fixating on some random part of the room, but never for more than a few seconds at a time. There’s a look in her eyes that hurts to see, and so Byleth reaches over and pulls her into an embrace, rubbing the top of her head slowly. The emperor doesn’t protest, continuing to breath in and out heavily. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe Edelgard, you’re safe,” Byleth whispers. She looks over to see Ferdinand watching with concern. Motioning towards the door, she slowly escorts Edelgard out the room and up the stairs, not stopping until they reach the door and are back outside. 

“It’s the sun, Edelgard. You’re outside. You’re safe.” Byleth carefully separates from her, keeping one hand on her shoulder, not wanting to let go completely. 

It takes a few moments, but eventually Edelgard nods her head and exhales. 

“I’m sorry about that, my teacher. I…” 

“It’s alright. You don’t need to explain.” But Edelgard shakes her head in disagreement.

“Even now, the sight of such reminders fills with me complete revulsion. I find myself falling into my own mind in those moments.” Edelgard doesn’t appear ashamed to admit any of this. The princess that had existed in her past - helpless - contrasted with the emperor that would never allow such tragedy to befall her again. Byleth knew that despite everything, Edelgard was not a victim, but a survivor. 

Helping Edelgard, they sit down on the steps of the house together, and Ferdinand joins them. He’s quiet, wide eyes cast towards Edelgard. 

“You had no idea.” He speaks slowly, voice tinged with uncertainty. “No idea it was there. But you’ve seen a room like that before, haven’t you?” 

“Ferdinand…” Byleth warns. “This isn’t a topic we should be discussing.” 

“How did you find it?” Edelgard asks, ignoring his question with those of her own. “How could you know?” Her words are sharp as if they could cut air. The mask - the Flame Emperor’s mask - has slipped back into her voice without realizing it. 

“I…” And now it’s Ferdinand that looks frightened. He sighs, placing his hands firmly on his knees for support. “I suppose I did promise to explain.” Breathing in deeply as if to summon his courage, he starts with a shaky tone. 

“Two years ago, after our ‘argument’ and my leaving the Imperial Capital, I returned home to discover my father had passed away from a lifelong illness.” 

“Oh, Ferdinand,” Byleth interrupts with sympathy. She knew from rumors and stories that the former Duke Aegir was a cruel and pompous man, and that his dismissal had been nothing but a benefit to the Empire. But still, she knew what it felt like to lose a father. _Edelgard does too. We all do._ “I’m sorry.” 

He smiles and nods his head in thanks before continuing. “After I began to set his affairs in order, I found a box containing letters between him and the Lord Regent, Volkhard von Arundel.” Edelgard’s head perks up at this. 

“I wasn’t surprised, not at first, since they were longtime political allies. Most of the letters were of minor administrative matters, and of no consequence. 

“But it was the ones that spoke of other topics that concerned me. In particular, frequent mention of a village in what had been Hrym territory, spanning back years.”

 _This village._

“They spoke of variables and testings, preliminary findings and failures. And of crests, always about crests. So I decided to do some research, poking my nose into the history of this town, and my father’s involvement. I believe I was careless at first, and it must have alerted the Lord Regent to my investigation.

“What I found was…disturbing. Rumors of missing children, snatched away in the night. Whole families fleeing town, but never seen leaving by their neighbors. Masked strangers with dubious authority, conscripting young men for a war that hadn’t even started yet. 

“Over the decade that my father and the Lord Regent exchanged information regarding this village, the population went from over five-hundred down to what you see in front of you. Nothing.” 

Ferdinand leans back, his orange eyes staring into the sky as if he wished to fly away from all this. “And when I came here in person… and I found that room…” He inhales sharply, turning to the others. “Edelgard, what was my father involved in?” 

She looks at him with eyes that Byleth cannot read, somewhere between furious and scared. Without a word she carefully removes one of the red gloves she wears, folding it neatly and placing it to the side. She holds up the back of her hand, revealing a spider’s web of white-hot scars extending from digits to wrist, running almost parallel to the visible blood veins. 

Staring at this, Ferdinand appears unable to speak. With precision she starts to roll up the sleeve of her dress until it is halfway up her arm. The scars continue up from her wrist, twisting and curving as they run further, disappearing into the rest of the sleeve. 

“Edelgard, I…” Ferdinand’s speech stumble as he speaks, horror and an almost personal shame evident on his face. The gears in his mind click into place. “I had no idea.” 

“Of course you didn’t.” Edelgard unrolls her sleeve and puts her glove back on. Turning to Ferdinand, she looks him directly in the eyes. “Ferdinand, do you ever wonder why your father didn’t share any of this with you, even as his successor?” 

“How could he? Who would want to know of something so horrible?” 

But she shakes her head, eyes closing for a moment as she readies her words. “I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead, but I doubt very much your father cared for things such as that. No.” She takes a hand and forms it into a fist, placing it squarely on his chest. “It is because you are a kind man with an incorruptible heart. If he had told you of his crimes, and that of my uncles’s… You never would have stood for it.” 

Ferdinand appears stunned, taking almost an entire minute to find his voice. “Edelgard, that might just be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

“I almost feel ashamed to hear that.” She twists her hands in that nervous gesture Byleth had discovered. “Perhaps I should have been kinder to you from the beginning. In truth, I believe I projected too much of your father onto you.” 

There’s something of a soft chuckle that escapes Ferdinand’s mouth. “Am I hearing this correctly? Is Emperor Edelgard actually being _retrospective_?” 

“Ferdinand,” Edelgard says slowly, “did you know it’s rather dangerous to mock the Emperor of Adrestia, especially to her face?” 

There’s a gulp. “Is it?” 

She raises an eyebrow. “Do you want to find out?” 

Byleth sighs softly to herself. _Of course they’d find a way to ruin a nice moment._

In a way, it was exactly like their days at the Academy. 

—

“So Edelgard, what happens now?” Ferdinand poses the question they had all been thinking but unconsciously avoiding. “I’ve told you my part of the story, but according to you, the Professor’s life is still in danger regardless. Assuming Arundel doesn’t have worse in mind.” 

“So is yours, Ferdinand. We were supposed to kill you after all,” Edelgard points out. 

“I’d rather not die, or fall into the clutches of that man,” Byleth admits. “But I’m not doing it at the cost of Ferdinand’s life.” 

“Then we have to stick to our plan.” Edelgard turns to Ferdinand. “Essentially, you have three options. The first is to accept death. Obviously, that’s out of the question.” She raises two fingers. “The second is exile. I could smuggle you across the border into the Alliance. You’d be safe there, for a time.” 

“And the Professor? What happens if she fails to complete her ‘mission’?” 

“You can leave her safety to me, I promise.” Ferdinand almost looks like he doesn’t believe that, but he makes no objections. 

“And the third?” 

“I believe it’s the preferable choice. If it works, both you and the Professor would be safe.”

“I sense a _but_.” 

“Indeed. It requires you to trust me.” 

“Ah.” 

“Ferdinand,” Byleth says as she reaches over and puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “If it helps at all, I trust Edelgard.” 

“I know you do Professor. And I trust you.” Ferdinand turns to Edelgard with a heavy sigh. “Alright, I’ll do it. I place my life in your hands, Edelgard.” 

“I swear to you, I won’t let you down.” She reaches into a dress pocket, pulling out the letter Hubert had given her earlier. “This is the plan, and our gambit.” 

“A letter?” 

“Words carry weight, especially for an emperor.” 

“I’m almost too scared to ask.” Using his spear to lift himself, Ferdinand rises to his feet, rolling his shoulders. “I take it we are to execute this gambit sooner, rather than later.” 

“The sooner the better.” Edelgard stands up as well, holding out a hand to Byleth, which she takes. “We should head to camp and rendezvous with General Ladislava and Hubert.” 

If Byleth hadn’t been paying attention, she might have sworn that Ferdinand started slightly at the mention of the Imperial Minister’s name. 

—

As it turns out, they weren’t the only ones with the same idea. 

Edelgard leaves Ferdinand with General Ladislava, who was waiting for them outside the entrance to their camp. He protests at first, but she makes it clear that this isn’t up for debate. Grumbling but acquiescing, Ferdinand and Ladislava quickly start to catch up, an old back and forth reestablished. 

Entering the camp proper, Hubert quickly catches up to them. He doesn’t ask about the success of their mission, but instead informs Edelgard that they have a guest both unexpected and very much expected in the first place. 

“He’s in your tent.” 

Nodding, Edelgard and Byleth make their way over. In front of the grand tent of the emperor, a pale mage in a large hat greets them. 

“You’re late.” 

Shoving him aside, Edelgard enters the tent, Byleth close behind. It feels like walking into the lion’s den. At the center of the room, sitting at a table and enjoying a cup of tea is the Lord Regent himself. He smirks upon seeing them, raising his cup in a mocking greeting. 

“Ah, what splendid timing! And here I was worried you’d keep me waiting.” His gaze runs over Edelgard and then Byleth, examining each in turn.

“Uncle, I wonder how many times I have to ask you to give me the opportunity to welcome you. These, _surprise visits_ of yours must make me seem like such a poor host.” 

“Oh, fret not. I quite enjoy your company, regardless of any advanced preparation.” His tone conveys delight in the nerve he seems to strike. Taking a final sip, he sets down his cup and stands up, straightening out his robes as he does so. “Now, let’s cut to the heart of the matter.” 

“So soon? No time for pleasantries?” 

It struck Byleth that Edelgard sounded very much like him in that moment. Deliberately so, she thinks. If there was any way of getting under his skin, it would be pretending that nothing he said or did worked. 

He ignores her remark, centering his attention on Byleth. His eyes run up and down the length of her body, and she feels partially violated. When he speaks, it’s with the familiar taunting underlying his every word. 

“Tell me, Fell Star, have you successfully completed the mission I assigned you?” 

Byleth says nothing, staring him head on. She wouldn’t make the same mistake. Not again. 

“Ah.” He nods. “So that’s a no.” Shaking his head, he looks up at her with zero surprise on his face. “I imagine it’s difficult, to strike down someone you were so close to. Especially one you feel a responsibility for. Like a student.” 

It’s Edelgard that takes the lead. 

“Unfortunately, the situation has changed. I’m afraid the Professor was unable to complete what was asked of her, for reasons more complicated than you believed.”

“I can’t help but notice you’re speaking for her.” 

“After what happened last time, I forbade her from talking without my permission,” Edelgard lies. “I wanted to avoid a repeat.” 

“You’re learning.” Arundel smirks at the professor. “Yet I still don’t quite understand how she could fail such a simple mission.” 

“It’s not a matter of capability, but more so one of authority.” Edelgard steps forward, handing Arundel the letter. “Perhaps this will clear matters up.” 

Rather than be upset, Arundel breaks open the seal with amusement. Clearing his throat, he begins to read the letter out loud, a sense of theatrics in his voice.

_By order of the Emperor of Adrestia, Edelgard of house Hresvelg_

_It is by this decree that Ferdinand of house Aegir is granted the title of Prime Minister of the Adrestian Empire, until his own resignation or dismissal by the Emperor herself._

_Under accordance with the new policies of Imperial patronage, all prior lands and titles must be surrendered to the state. The Prime Minister is to receive lodging and a salary matching the height of their new office. This is a non-negotiable term._

_Let this letter serve as a badge of office until the newly appointed is granted their official titles and has sworn the oath of loyalty._

_With honor to the two-headed eagle of Adrestia and to the Emperor._

The tension hangs in the air as Arundel finishes and lowers the letter. He turns his gaze between the two of them, lingering the longest on Byleth. But rather than rage, he claps his hands, erupting into laughter.

“Oh, very good Edelgard! Very good indeed!” He pretends to wipe a tear from his eyes, laughing all the while. “I must admit, I certainly thought you’d try to figure your way out of this, but not with a scheme like this!”

“Scheme? You wound me uncle. Your ‘request’ put us in quite the predicament. As nothing more than a prisoner, Professor Eisner has no legal recourse to complete such a task. Doing so would force me to put her on trial for treason.” Byleth isn’t surprised at any of this; it had all been part of the plan. “I viewed it as a waste of talent, and decided to make use of Von Aegir’s skills to our benefit.” 

“And it just so happened that in doing so, you kept your prized pet from doing something she didn’t want to.” Arundel’s voice is dripping with sarcastic amusement. “Your weakness for this girl is quite… revealing.” 

“As is your obsession with her.” 

“Hmm.” Arundel suddenly snaps his fingers, and the mage from outside enters the tent. “However, I seem to recall that failure to comply would result in a different sort of punishment. You failed, and as a result, I’ll be taking ownership of the Fell Star.” 

_My life is now in your hands, Edelgard._

“Myson, seize it.” The mage raises a hand and aims it at Byleth, slowly making his way across the tent towards her.

He gets no further. There’s movement to Byleth’s side, and Edelgard steps forward, planting herself firmly in front of her teacher. The mage hesitates, turning back to Arundel for guidance. 

Tilting his head, Arundel’s mask of confidence breaks, if only for a moment. He appears almost confused. “Edelgard, stand aside.” 

“I will not.” 

“What is the meaning of this?” 

“You claim to be a smart man. Why don’t you tell me.” 

The two glare at each other, no one else daring to make another move or say another word. When Arundel does speak, he’s completely dropped all pretense of civility and humor. “Are you choosing to defy me, now of all times?” 

The mage named Myson takes a half step forward, but is stopped by Edelgard’s axe resting against his chest. 

“Take one step further, and you’ll find out exactly what the word defiance means. Let me make this clear; you will not take Byleth from me.” 

“Do you have any idea what you are doing?”

“More than you.” 

Scowling, Arundel makes his way past Myson, coming face to face with Edelgard. He towers over her, and yet Byleth can’t help but think he looks small in that moment. 

“The severity of your choice right here and now… You would deny me what is mine?

“You’ve failed to understand this… she doesn’t belong to you.” Edelgard places her arm around Byleth’s waist, pulling her in close with a gentle tug. “She’s mine, and only mine.” 

_I hope you didn’t enjoy saying that too much, Edelgard._

“So this is it, isn’t it? You would threaten me over one woman.”

“I already have.” 

Arundel growls, an inhuman noise. “How could you be so foolish?” 

“Because this is where I draw the line. And you can either agree to that, or you can consider our partnership at an end, including all the consequences that will bring.” 

“You would do that… go so far just for someone like her?” 

“I would do anything for her.”

If Byleth’s heart was alive, she was sure it would have skipped a beat just then. 

“Don’t be a fool, Edelgard. Our cooperation is worth far more than her.” 

But she shakes her head. “You are so blind, _Thales_ , that you fail to understand why we mere humans care so much for each other. All my life, all you have done is take, and by my own weakness, all I have done is give.” Her axe moves away from Myson, centering on the Lord Regent. “But not this time. Now, I am taking, and you will give.” 

For the briefest of moments, Byleth fears that they miscalculated, and that Arundel will strike back against them. But instead, he steps back. 

“This is the choice you are making?”

Edelgard nods. “It is the choice I have made. You need me just as much as I need you. I’m sure you can stomach one small setback.” 

“Hmmm.” Arundel contemplates the situation, eyes scanning over the two of them. But to Byleth’s complete surprise, he nods in agreement. “Very well then. I’ll stand down.” 

If Edelgard is shocked to hear it, she hides it masterfully. “That is appreciated. It would be foolish of us to let such matters sour our working relationship.” 

“Indeed. So long as you can keep her in line, I will relent on matters concerning the Fell Star. As for Von Aegir, inform him that as the new Prime Minister, he is to keep his nose out of our affairs, especially as a newfound ally.” 

“I’m sure he will easily agree to that.” 

“Very well. Then that concludes our business.” Arundel nods at Myson, who warps out in a haze of purple. “But Edelgard, you will do well to remember that some things are worth giving everything for. I would only hope you realize what those actually are.” The familiar purple blur envelops him as well. “Watch your back, Flame Emperor.” And like that, he vanishes. 

—

It takes only minutes to catch Ferdinand up on what had happened. It takes him longer to process. 

“This letter…” He’s clutching it with a sense of reverence, as if afraid to even slightly damage the parchment. “Edelgard, you do realize you signed and authorized it yourself?” 

“That was the intention, yes.” 

“But that means that you’ve actually just made me Prime Minister!” 

“I did.” 

Byleth almost feels bad for Ferdinand, seeing the different conflicting emotions and confusing thoughts running through his head. He eventually folds the letter up and returns it to the envelope, handing it back to Edelgard. 

“I presume you’ll want me to resign the position then, since the ruse has played it’s part?” 

“Why would I?” Edelgard pushes the letter back towards him. “Are you implying you aren’t capable?” 

“You’re serious.” 

“I am.” Edelgard holds out her hand to Ferdinand. “I didn’t make a mistake choosing this as the means to secure your safety. The position is yours, if you want it.” 

He stares at the hand, and Byleth knows that this was what he had been preparing for all his life. But to her surprise, he doesn’t take it, instead choosing to give Edelgard the letter. 

“I’m afraid I can’t accept, not like this.” 

“This isn’t out of pity, nor as an apology. You are well-suited to the position; the offer is genuine.” 

“And I understand that. But I cannot accept.” He gives her a small smile, as if acknowledging something between them. “Under the system you are fighting to build, I would have to earn this, not through my family name or bloodline, but with my actions. That is what I will do.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I am, Edelgard. Allow me to return to Enbarr with you and the Professor. If you’ll have me, I would like to resume my old position as your advisor.” He turns and gives Byleth a quick smile. “And so I can make sure the Professor is well and truly safe.” 

“Very well, I accept. On the day you feel as if you have earned it, I will return this letter to you.” 

“Thank you Edelgard.” Turning back to Byleth, he gives her a bigger smile. “Looks like you’ll have to put up with me as well for now.” 

“You make that sound like a bad thing. I’m beyond happy you’re coming back with us.” And Byleth really is. She hadn’t realized just how much she had missed her former students. 

“What a touching reunion.”

A new voice drifts into their circle, and all present glance over to see the tall and dark form of Hubert standing there. His gaze is fixated on his former classmate.

“Hubert,” he says slowly, eyes focused on the man in front of him. He steps closer, his stride increasing with each step. 

“Ferdina-” is as far as he gets before the nobleman slaps him across the face with his palm. His head rolls with the hit, and he rubs his cheek while complaining under his breath. “Alright, I may have deserved that.” 

“You did,” Ferdinand replies, crossing his arms. But he turns his head to present the side of his face. “But so do I. Go on, I deserve it just as much as you.” 

Hubert opens and closes his hand, bringing it to the side of Ferdinand’s face as if measuring the trajectory. His strike is swift, sending Ferdinand reeling with the impact. But then he leans forward and kisses him on the cheek, much to everyone’s shock. Byleth has to put a hand to her mouth to stifle a squeak. 

“That’s what you deserve, you insufferable, overbearing, kind-hearted fool of a noble,” Hubert says without a hint of malice. Ferdinand stares at him with his eyes wide. 

“I take it you’ve been receiving my coffee?” 

“Yes Ferdinand, I’ve been getting the coffee you insist on sending me. It’s completely unnecessary. And very much appreciated.” 

Ferdinand beams at that remark. “And here I thought you would hate me!” 

“Oh, I do,” Hubert clarifies, scowling. “You quite literally walked out of my life.” 

“I…” Ferdinand nods, turning his head down slightly in what seems like shame. “I don’t regret doing what I thought was right. But I did owe you more than that.” 

“You did,” Hubert agrees. But he holds out a hand. “That doesn’t mean we can’t try and pick up the pieces however.” His face almost turns a slight shade of red. Almost. “If you want to, of course.” 

Ferdinand responds by taking his hand, then pulling him forward into a massive bearhug. 

—

It’s much later that Byleth climbs into the carriage she shared with Edelgard and almost immediately collapses onto the bench from exhaustion. _Why am I so tired? I didn’t even do anything today._ But she supposed it was mostly from relief. Beyond all hope, they had won. 

Edelgard and Ferdinand both enter as well. He had initially protested, but Byleth, and Edelgard to an extent, both insisted he accompany them on the journey. Byleth hopes they’ll take the opportunity to talk, not argue. 

“Hey, Edelgard…” Byleth says sleepily, already retreating into her emerging dreams. “You aren’t… going to punish me for speaking out of turn earlier… are you?” 

She smiles, taking the cape from her shoulders and draping it over her. “I hadn’t decided yet, my teacher. But I’m leaning towards no.” 

“Hmmmm.” She smiles as the drowsiness pulls her under. “You’re… an awful captor… Edelgard.” Chuckling to herself, Byleth closes her eyes, out cold in seconds. 

Ferdinand looks between them, settling on the bench next to the emperor. 

“You and her have grown close, huh?” 

“I suppose we have. Strange circumstances tend to do that.” 

Ferdinand nods at that. It makes perfect sense to him. “Edelgard, do you mind if I ask you a question?” 

“By all means.”

“Thank you. I… I really don’t know where to begin, so I’m just going to ask. Is she really your prisoner?” 

Edelgard turns to him, confusion in her eyes and voice. “That’s an odd question, since both she and I have told you so, yes.” 

“I almost find it hard to believe.” 

“Hard to believe? In what way?” 

“When I look at the two of you, I don’t see captor and captive.”

The confusion increases, but now it’s tinged with something more. “I… what do you mean by that?” 

“Well, it’s everything. The way you two talk to and about each other. How you reciprocate each other’s more intimate gestures. For the goddess’s sake, you threatened a civil war for her safety!” 

“That’s…” Edelgard turns her head, failing to hide the redness of her face. 

“Edelgard! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush like that.” 

“…Don’t make me regret saving your life Ferdinand.” 

“Sorry, sorry! What I’m trying to say is that for two people that used to be enemies, you get along far better than anyone would expect.” 

“I can’t deny that. The Professor… she is important to me.” 

Ferdinand smiles with a genuine expression of delight. “And I think that’s wonderful. It’s just… I wonder.” 

“About?” 

“I just wonder… if you gave the Professor her freedom, maybe she’d actually want to stay?”

Edelgard sighs, not with anger or exhaustion, but almost with fear. She doesn’t respond, but Ferdinand presses the issue. 

“Have you considered asking her?”

“Hubert has… he’s told me she doesn’t know.” 

“That’s him asking. I’m talking about you.” 

“I… I couldn’t. That wouldn’t be fair to put her on the spot like that.” 

“Are you scared she’d say no?” 

Again, she doesn’t respond. Always so confident and sure of herself, Edelgard dislikes that she can’t retain that level of control when it comes to this matter. 

“Edelgard?” 

“I’m scared she’d say yes.” 

“Oh. May I ask why?” 

Staring at the sleeping Professor, Edelgard decides to be honest with Ferdinand. The fear she’s kept bottled up is something she so desperately wants to let out. 

“Because…how could I trust that it’s genuine? I hold power over her… How do I know that hasn’t influenced her? That I haven’t manipulated her to want to stay? What there is between us… it doesn’t come from a place of equality. It isn’t fair of me to ask because I won’t be able to know that as my prisoner, I haven’t somehow coerced her into it.” 

“I think you’re giving our Professor far too little credit. She’s a strong willed and stubborn woman. Just like you.” 

“Ferdinand…”

“What I’m saying is, you can’t make her do anything she doesn’t already want to. If you’ve been honest with her about most things, why not take the chance?” Yawning loudly, Ferdinand settles into the corner, resting his head against the carriage wall. “Just consider it, alright?” 

Edelgard doesn’t respond. All she can do is watch the sleeping form of the Professor. There’s hope, she knows there is. But hope only exists alongside the fear that creates it. 

And for Edelgard, who had already lost Byleth once, that fear is almost overwhelming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, Edelgard and Byleth really like to hold hands now, huh? Good thing I rated this story as Mature.
> 
> Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. I really struggled with it due to writer's block, but I'm hopeful it turned out okay.


	12. Relative Tranquility

Byleth was always an early riser. It came as a habit from years living in mercenary camps, leaving as the sun was barely ascending in the sky. A useful skill to have as a teacher she came to find out, as there was always something to do at the monastery, and only so much time to do it. 

Yawning, she sits up in bed, letting the covers fall down around her. She gives her arms a quick stretch before jumping out of bed, lazily pulling on her scattered clothing. A quick glance in the mirror shows a disheveled mess of bed hair, which she attempts to correct with a comb. She stops when it looks halfway acceptable. 

_I should probably get something to eat._ Byleth knew the palace dining hall schedule by heart now, but that didn’t really matter. As long as she had her staples; oatmeal, an apple and toast, she was happy. _Lots of toast._

She opens the door and walks out, only stopping because there was someone else waiting on the other side, leaning against the wall. 

“Oh, good morning Edelgard.” 

The emperor returns the greeting with a smile. “And good morning to you, Professor. Sleep well?” 

“Like a log.” Byleth runs a hand through her still messy hair. “Were you waiting long?” 

“Not at all. We do have similar sleeping schedules it seems.” 

“Well then, should we grab breakfast together?” 

This had become their routine since returning to Enbarr: whoever was the first to awaken would seek the other out, thus beginning their day together. Byleth couldn’t really remember how it had started, just that it was an unspoken agreement between them. 

She quite liked it. 

—

Ferdinand was drinking coffee, which Byleth found both amusing and sweet. Hubert sat next to him at the table, a mug of warm tea in his hands. Their choice of breakfast also differed, with Hubert preferring poached eggs, sausage and as much bacon as he could stack on his plate. Ferdinand meanwhile had selected a more balanced meal, though he occasionally stole a piece of food from the other man’s plate. 

They talk of mundane matters, which Byleth keeps quiet for most of, preferring to focus on her breakfast. Edelgard and Ferdinand were particularly lively, and though their discussions often bordered on turning into debates, she notices that they were far more respectful to each other than she remembers them being at the academy. In a way, it made her proud as a teacher. 

Eventually the conversation settles on something she did find interesting. 

“…and with the Imperial Ball coming up, it’s important we keep regular rotations of guards to observe the comings and goings of the laborers and officials,” Edelgard tells Hubert, who nods. 

“The Imperial Ball?” Byleth asks between bites of toast. 

“You remember the dance we had at the academy? It’s just like that, but hosted by the Empire.” 

“What it is,” Hubert growls, “is an extraordinary waste of time, money and resources.” 

“And yet the nobility expects it,” Ferdinand adds, “How else would they get the chance to show each other up all at once?” 

Byleth looks around between the three of them. “Even in wartime?” 

“Especially in wartime.” Edelgard appears displeased with the idea as well. “The nobles wish to convey that the Empire is strong despite the conflict.” 

“Will you be attending?” 

Edelgard nods. “As emperor, I must.” A small grin tugs at her lips. “Hubert as well.” 

The displeasure on his face is evident. 

“Oh, stop scowling. You had fun last year didn’t you?” 

“That would be because I discovered the Minister of Agriculture and the wife of the Treasury Minister together in a broom closet,” Hubert tells with some manner of satisfaction, causing Ferdinand to break out in laughter. 

“Hubert, you used that to blackmail them!” But Edelgard is grinning now too. 

“Yes, and now no one will make that mistake again. I’ll have no promises of blackmail material this year.” 

“I see.” Byleth would say more, but she really isn’t sure how to feel. She has good memories from the ball at Garreg Mach - dancing with Claude, drinking with Manuela, chatting with Dimitri and finally meeting Edelgard at the Goddess Tower for the first time - that contrasted heavily with the memory of her father losing his life the day after. 

“Hmmm.” Edelgard looks at her as if reading the other woman’s mind, which Byleth is starting to worry she might actually be capable of. _How else does she know what I’m thinking and worrying about all the time?_

“Regardless,” Hubert states, “The palace will be quite busy in preparation. That means, Professor, that you’ll need to watch what you do and what you say. I have no reason to suspect anyone would recognize you, but I’d like to avoid unnecessary risks.” 

Byleth nods. “Got it. I’ll be a good prisoner.” Hubert and Edelgard catch her thinly veiled attempt at a joke, but Ferdinand looks rather uncomfortable with what she just said. He was still adjusting to the change of her role within the group, no longer leading but instead deferring to Edelgard. 

“Well, I suppose that’s that.” Edelgard stands up. “I have some work I need to get started on. Hubert, Ferdinand, I’ll see you at the strategy meeting before lunch.” They nod, and she turns to Byleth. “And Professor, are we still on for our training session in the afternoon?” 

“Yes,” Byleth confirms with a smile. “Come prepared, because I don’t intend to go easy on you.” 

She laughs. “You never do, my teacher.” With that Edelgard walks off, leaving the three of them together. 

They all sit in silence for a while, finishing the rest of their meal. Byleth doesn’t mind too much, as she was intent on eating all the toast she had taken for herself. 

“So, Professor…” Ferdinand eventually does speak, breakfast finished. He takes another sip of his coffee, wincing as he does so. Hubert reaches over and trades cups with him, to which Ferdinand smiles gratefully. He turns his attention back to her. “Any chance I could get some instruction time as well?” 

Byleth smiles apologetically. “Sorry, but Edelgard’s the only one I’m permitted to instruct. Trust me, I had to fight her just to be allowed to teach again.” 

Sighing, Ferdinand nods. “I shouldn’t be surprised that she is still rather possessive of you.” 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Byleth tries to stop the color from both draining and rushing to her face. 

Hubert and Ferdinand look at each other with mild amusement. 

“Well, you remember what she was like at the academy. I think she requested the most personal tutoring sessions out of all of us.” 

“Yea, but…” And Byleth saw that look again, the one she had seen often on Manuela and even Hubert’s face. The one that indicated they knew something about the two of them that she didn’t. 

_Not you too Ferdinand._

Hubert decides to leave shortly after, giving Byleth a respectful nod but planting a kiss on Ferdinand’s cheek before walking off. The nobleman smiles, bringing a hand to his face. 

“So, Ferdinand,” Byleth says with a grin, “you and Hubert are doing well?” 

He nods, the smile never leaving his lips. “Better than I would have imagined, if I’m being honest. Things are still a little tense here and there, as to be expected… but we are both making the effort to overcome it.” 

“That’s wonderful, truly.” Byleth had always sensed some chemistry between the two during their school days, and was delighted that one of them - or perhaps both - had decided to act on it while she was asleep for all those years. “I must admit, the two of you get along surprisingly well considering… “

“That we used to hate each other?” Ferdinand laughs. “Funny how that works, is it not? I could almost compare it to you and Edelgard, seeing as you and her have fought each other on multiple occasions.” 

_The Holy Tomb… Garreg Mach… The Goddess Tower._

Byleth frowns. “But that’s different,” she points out. “Edelgard and I…” _Aren’t romantically involved._ “…never hated each other,” she says instead. 

“I suppose not. In fact, I am rather impressed. Most people would never be as forgiving to each other as the two of you have been.” 

She shakes her head. “Forgiving someone is easy. It’s making the decision to do so that’s the most difficult part.” 

“I should watch out or Edelgard might lecture you about teaching me something after all.” 

Byleth giggles, secretly glad that Ferdinand was feeling slightly comfortable enough to make a joke about her situation. She felt no shame in it. 

“She’s not that strict. A little overbearing, but never mean or bossy.” 

“Not strict? Are you sure we’re talking about the same Edelgard?” 

“And what about you Ferdinand? Since you’ve arrived here you haven’t once attempted to challenge her to a duel, or even boast about how superior you are to her. Both of you have changed.” 

“Oh, that.” He rubs the back of his neck, having to push his thick hair to the side to reach. “I… I must admit that the last few years have been rather humbling. Between losing my lands and titles, as well as discovering the horrible things my father did… well, I don’t think I am better than her in any way.” He hangs his head. “We were never even on the same level.” 

“It was never about being better,” Byleth tries to say in a reassuring voice. She’s amazed at how much she feels like they’re back at the academy. “She told me that last week you proposed a system of universal education for the common-folk, to help select and promote talented individuals.” 

He seems surprised. “She told you that?” 

“Edelgard did. And she quite liked the idea as well.” Byleth chuckles softly at the memory. “I won’t lie, she complained a little, but that was only because she wanted to come up with the idea first.” 

“But… why did she not tell me that herself? All she said was that it would be taken under consideration.” 

“And admit you were right? Give Edelgard some time, and I’m sure she’ll become more comfortable acknowledging your contributions.” 

Nodding, Ferdinand rises to his feet, adopting a sincere smile as he does so. “You know Professor, you would make a good noble.” 

This causes her to laugh loudly, as she found the idea almost absurd. Not that she had anything against the nobility, but her social status was already such a mess that adding more to it would only further complicate things. 

“That’s sweet of you to say Ferdinand, but I am very much okay with being a commoner. Less of a headache.” 

—

With a lack of anything better to do, Byleth decides to make herself useful. She starts by cleaning her room, though there was hardly anything to actually clean, as the palace staff was very thorough. Organizing her belongings didn’t fare any better, as besides the plentiful clothing and books she had been given by Edelgard, she didn’t really own anything else. 

Byleth does double check the small leather bag she kept in the back of the dresser, making sure her father’s diary and ring was still there. She trusted that nobody would attempt to make off with the items - Edelgard had made it very clear to Hubert that he was to give her privacy inside the room, and not conduct, as he called it, ‘Periodic Safety Inspections’. She wasn’t exactly sure whose safety that was supposed to be for. 

Sighing, she grabs a notebook and quill, then makes her way to the training yard. A squad of soldiers under Ladislava were conducting drills, and she sits down quietly to observe. Every time she saw a mistake being made, she wrote it down. 

_Second row, third column - Holds spear crooked._

_Fifth row, first column - Out of sync with rest of formation._

_First row, fourth column - Distracted by General Ladislava._

_Third row, third column - Clearly suffering a hangover._

Fortunately Ladislava also happened to pick up on these errors, and she quickly corrects them. Smiling, Byleth crosses them out and turns to a clean page. 

Once the arena clears she conducts an inspection of all the equipment. Noting that the training dummies were frayed and coming apart, she jots down a recommendation that they be replaced. The weapons were also in a similar state of disrepair, and she adds it to the page. Finally she decides that the yard itself could stand to look a little livelier, and suggests adding further decoration. 

With that out of the way, Byleth gets a head start on her training, changing into a loose shirt and shorts. She runs laps around the arena until exhausted, enjoying the strain it puts on her muscles. The next step in her regimen would be sword exercises, but she stretches first to cool down. 

Back and forth. Up and down. Side to side. The muscles in her arms and back _flex_ as she stretches, and she relishes in how powerful it makes her feel. 

It’s when she’s reaching down and grabbing for her toes that she senses someone is watching her. Finishing her stretch, she turns around and smiles, not surprised at all who was sitting there. 

“You’re early.” 

Edelgard blinks as if she had just snapped out of a trance. A blush develops on her cheeks, and she hurriedly looks elsewhere. Grabbing a towel to mop up the sweat, Byleth takes a seat next to her. 

“My meetings finished sooner than I expected.” 

“Ah, that explains why you decided to come by and stare at me.” 

“I was not - I wasn’t staring at you Professor.” 

“No, just sitting there unannounced and looking at me intently. Not staring,” Byleth says with a smirk. 

“You know, you really can be infuriating sometimes, my teacher.” But Edelgard doesn’t appear too upset. 

“Because you let me get away with it.” 

That teases a smile out of the emperor. “You’re right. I’m far too soft on you.” She reaches over and holds up Byleth’s notebook, still opened to the page from earlier. “Case in point, this.” 

“What about it?” 

“Well, ordinarily I’d remind you that I don’t want you doing tasks such as this.” 

“It was simple, and I enjoyed it.” 

Edelgard shakes her head, setting the notebook down. “That’s not the problem. You aren’t a member of the staff, the military, or my retinue.” She sighs, looking at Byleth with a sense of annoyed respect. “Doing things like this makes me feel as if I’m taking advantage of you.”

“I chose to do this, and the recommendations are good.” 

“It is hard to deny that, and this place has been neglected…” Edelgard nods, as if confirming something in her mind. “Fine, if you feel so inclined, you may submit a report to my office once a week regarding fixtures, repairs, and the like.” 

Raising a hand to her head in a salute, Byleth grins. “As you command, Your Majesty.” 

Groaning slightly, Edelgard moves herself closer to the professor. “What have I done to deserve you teasing me so?” 

A wicked smile adorning her face, Byleth holds up the key she wore around her neck, waving it back and forth. “If it truly bothers you that much…” 

But Edelgard doesn’t smile back. “Please don’t joke about that Professor. The idea of actually locking you away sickens me.” 

_Oh. I suppose it would, especially for you._

Byleth reaches out, asking for Edelgard’s hand with a light touch. Reciprocating, the emperor runs her fingers over her palm, then her knuckles. 

“Edelgard, may I remove your glove?” 

She expects her to say no, wanting to keep her scars hidden. But to her surprise, Edelgard nods, holding out her hand in a flat gesture. Byleth gently removes the gauntlet, eyes falling over the marred skin as the red fabric and metal recedes. The touch of her skin is pleasant, and she’s grateful for it. 

“You know, I haven’t actually thanked you for what you did.” 

Edelgard appears confused for a moment, but her gaze quickly widens in understanding. The edges of a smile emerge, driving the corners of her mouth upwards. 

“I don’t believe thanks were ever necessary.” 

“They usually are when someone saves your life,” Byleth points out. She can’t stop the guilt from dripping into her speech, as much as they had silently agreed no one was to blame. 

In truth, Byleth hadn’t been able to stop thinking of their confrontation with Arundel since returning from Hrym. At the time, the euphoria of Edelgard’s words and her willingness to defend her had occupied the majority of the professor’s thoughts, but the more distance was put between then and now, the more she felt her own sense of guilt over the incident grow. 

Though she would never admit it out loud, Byleth couldn’t help but replay that moment over and over in her mind. The expression of certainty on Edelgard’s face, the lack of hesitation at her ultimatum, the way she had pulled her in around the waist… It stirred something in her, and she could swear that the dead organ she called a heart was at the center of it. 

_Why? Why are you willing to do so much for me?_

_Especially when I failed to do the same for you._

“Well, you can thank me by explaining what exactly has been bothering you all this time.” 

_Have I really become this easy to read? Or does she just know me far better than I’ve realized?_ It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to her; Edelgard had always been an incredibly observant student, and there was no reason that wouldn’t extend to her new role as emperor. 

“I just don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop thanking you for everything you did for me. Yet… it feels wrong…” There’s the sensation of Edelgard’s hand squeezing hers, and it gives Byleth the courage to continue. “It feels wrong that you were willing to take such a risk for me… You could have ruined everything you’ve worked so hard to build. I’m not worth it.” Byleth smiles mournfully. “I’m not worth an empire.”

And suddenly there’s a hand on the side of her face, and Edelgard is leaning in closely. Her tone is almost harsh, commanding in the way that only an emperor is. But it’s her eyes that set Byleth at ease. There’s nothing but concern and understanding reflected there. 

“I want you to listen to me very carefully. You don’t get a say in that. Only I get to decide how much you are worth to me. Is that clear?”

“Edelgard…”

Her hand gently runs up and down her cheek, but then Edelgard pulls it away, the briefest flash of guilt across her features. That was unacceptable to Byleth, who reaches over and takes the hand, putting it back. They share a smile, and she assumes that her face is as red as Edelgard’s. 

“Did you really think I could ever give you up to a monster such as him? I made a promise that I would let you go once my war has ended, and I intend to keep it.” 

“I understand that. But I just find it hard to think it wouldn’t have been easier…” 

_Easier to just turn your back on me._

“Byleth, you aren’t a sacrificial pawn… You’re…” 

_What am I to you, really? What are we to each other?_

But instead of finishing that thought, Edelgard sighs quietly instead. Her next words are softer. 

“Whats the point of fighting for something if I won’t fight to save those I care about? I’ve lost so much already… family, friends… I’m not losing you too.” 

_One of these days it may not be up to you anymore._

And Byleth suddenly realizes how close they are, their faces directly across from each other. _It’s so easy… I could just lean over and…_

 _And what?_

Edelgard’s lips are moving, and if Byleth hadn’t been fixated on them, she might have missed that she was even speaking at all. 

“Byleth… may I hug you?” If she’s embarrassed by what she’s asking it hardly shows; just a faint pooling of color in her cheeks, a far cry from their earlier days. _We’ve really gotten used to this._

“Of course you can. You don’t have to ask.” 

But she shakes her head, which seems to have become her standard response to most of Byleth’s remarks. “I should ask. You do realize you’re allowed to refuse me, right? I won’t get mad if you ever tell me no.” 

She wants to laugh but doesn’t, because she knows Edelgard was serious about this. “You don’t need my consent for a _hug_.” 

Now Edelgard does look embarrassed. “You’re very good at completely missing the point, Professor.” But she takes her arms and wraps them around Byleth, resting her head on the other woman’s shoulder. 

“Sometimes I wonder,” she says quietly into Byleth’s ear, “if perhaps the goddess has a cruel sense of humor, bringing us back together like this.” 

_No… I just think she’s fond of second chances._

_For you… and for me._

Both keep their eyes closed as they stay in the embrace, neither willing to break it off first. Edelgard runs her fingers through Byleth’s hair, which makes the professor slightly jealous, as the neat hairstyle of the emperor prevents her from doing the same. 

Eventually Edelgard does disengage - though seemingly with reluctance - and rises to her feet. She smiles at Byleth, then reaches over and gently raps her on the top of the head. 

“Now, enough feeling sorry for ourselves. I believe you owe me a lesson.” 

True to her word, Byleth doesn’t go easy on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter this time around, as I wanted to give everybody a chance to breath after the last two. Mostly fluff, plus some small setup for the next arc (is arc the right word?). I also wanted to briefly touch on how Byleth felt about what happened last chapter, so hopefully that came across well. 
> 
> Also, I added chapter titles because.... reasons? I don't know, it just felt like something I wanted to do, so here we are.
> 
> Anyway, thank you to everybody who reads, leaves kudos or comments! I always like hearing what everyone thinks.


	13. An Informal Invitation

“So Professor, what’s so important that you had to drag me from my work to talk about?” 

The amused smile on Edelgard’s lips indicates she’s far from annoyed or upset - by the manner in which she stretches as she walks alongside Byleth, it almost seems as if she’s happy to be away from her desk. 

“I can’t tell you yet.” Byleth really, really, really wants to, but has prepared this down to the second, and doesn’t want to deviate, lest it all fall apart. 

“Can’t or won’t?” Edelgard teases. 

Byleth decides to not indulge that, instead pressing forward towards their destination. She reaches next to her and grabs Edelgard’s hand, gently pulling her along. It’s an effective means of silencing the emperor, as she’s suddenly too focused on their physical contact to continue speaking. 

It isn’t long before they reach the place Byleth was leading her; the small garden she had grown fond of. There was a table already set up in the center, with several cups and a large teapot placed on top. Edelgard smiles upon seeing it. 

“Professor, if you wanted to invite me for tea you could have just asked.” 

_It’s more than just that._

Upon their return to the Imperial capital Ferdinand had gifted Byleth with a fine tea set, as well as a large variety of blends and leaves. They had taken to having tea together almost every other day, catching up and discussing current matters - though she suspected he was also doing so to check up on her. 

It also meant that she had been able to host small parties for Edelgard as well. The emperor had complained at first, giving her usual response of how that wasn’t Byleth’s responsibility, but had quickly warmed up to it upon repeat insistence. 

_She probably missed it just as much as me._

They sit across from each other, and Byleth quickly serves the tea. Edelgard eyes her with some manner of friendly suspicion the entire time, noting how rushed she was being. 

“Ah, I must thank you Professor. It’s very kind of you to serve my favorite tea.” Edelgard sips the beverage with grateful enthusiasm. 

_Bergamot_ , Byleth thinks as she inhales the aroma. It hadn’t surprised her to discover that someone as refined as Edelgard had also preferred a similarly refined blend. _And an expensive one too!_ Byleth had been shocked the first time she had tried to procure a box of the tea at Garreg Mach’s marketplace. The price was exorbitant, a large portion of her monthly personal budget allocated by the Church. In the end however, she had purchased it while her coin-purse wept, and the delighted expression on Edelgard’s face had made it all worth it.

“So, are you actually going to tell me what’s going on, or do I need to interrogate you for it?” Edelgard says with humor as she sets her cup down. 

Byleth reaches forward with her hands, setting both of them palm-side up on the table right in front of the other woman. A familiar soft smile finds its way to Edelgard’s lips, and she places both of her own hands on Byleth’s, their fingers wrapping around the other’s wrists. 

“Edelgard…” Byleth says slowly. 

“Yes Professor?” Edelgard appears amused at Byleth’s hesitation, though she can’t hide her own curiosity. 

“Will you let me accompany you to the Imperial Ball?” 

Her reaction is immediate. As Edelgard’s violet pupils widen and her cheeks blush dark red, one of her hands retracts as she brings it to her face, covering her mouth. Despite this her smile, wild and large as it is, can still be seen. Her eyes shimmer with an emotion the professor can’t quite read.

 _Please,_ is what Byleth wants to beg, but doesn’t, because she hadn’t heard a _yes_ or a _no_.

Edelgard’s reply is quiet, almost difficult to discern. But her words are spoken with confidence despite the volume. 

“Oh Byleth… I would be honored to go with you.”

“Really?” She asks, almost in disbelief. It had been her plan, but even so she had still been wracked by nervous thoughts of rejection. 

“Yes really,” Edelgard assures her. “Did you think I would dismiss you so readily?” 

“I wasn’t sure…” _I didn’t know if I would even be allowed to go._

“Professor,” Edelgard says softly as she grips her hands with a gentle squeeze. “Nothing would make me happier than to have you at my side during the dance.” 

“Oh.” There’s a tightening sensation in Byleth’s chest, and it’s all she can do to utter even those few syllables. “Oh.”

And suddenly she’s beside Edelgard, her arms wrapped around the emperor. “Thank you,” she almost whispers, her rapid proximity causing the other woman to blush heavily. 

“You’re quite welcome, my teacher. But…” 

Edelgard takes her hands, gently reaching for Byleth’s wrists as she separates the two of them. With a warm expression she places their palms together, then lowers her fingers so they are entwined with each other. 

“I should be the one thanking you…Even now you continue to surprise me, and I feel…” Her thumb nervously rubs against Byleth’s. “I feel more grateful than I can express with words.” 

“That’s quite alright,” Byleth says as she holds up their hands, interlaced together. “I think we’ve gotten good at communicating without speaking.” 

The image of Edelgard’s blushing smile sticks in her head for quite some time after. 

—

As much as she wants to spend the rest of the day with her, Edelgard regretfully tells Byleth that she has a large amount of work that needs finishing, but promises to meet up with her later so they can discuss the dance. Understanding, the professor stays in the garden, letting the energy from her personal victory settle in around her. 

_She said yes._

Relief floods over her, and it’s all she can do to hug herself tightly so it doesn’t overwhelm her. 

_She said yes!_

“Well now, someone’s in a good mood.” 

Looking up, Byleth sees Manuela saunter over, sitting down on the bench next to her. The physician’s smile is knowing in its intention, and Byleth suddenly realizes that she had been gently swaying from side to side, humming to herself. It was a display of serendipitous emotion that would have been unthinkable in the past for someone like the Ashen Demon, but was increasingly common in the here and now. 

“Come now Professor, fess up.” Leaning in, Manuela taps a finger on Byleth’s forehead, giggling slightly. “Something’s got you in high spirits. What is it?” 

Gathering her thoughts, she attempts to put those jumbled musings and feelings into words, but decides to keep it simple. 

“I asked Edelgard to the Imperial Ball.” She places her hands on her knees as she calms herself, feeling rather proud. 

“You did?” Manuela does appear surprised, but she adopts a smirk quickly after. “I take it by the fact that you’re grinning like a lunatic that she said yes?” 

Byleth nods, to which Manuela reacts by putting an arm around her, giving her a quick hug. She had always been grateful for the older professor’s friendship and experience, especially in times such as these. 

“I have to admit dear, I didn’t think you had it in you.” 

That was slightly confusing to Byleth, who still struggled when terms were put vaguely. “What do you mean?” 

Manuela tilts her head as she answers, giving the ex-mercenary a wink. “Well, most people don’t have the courage to ask the most powerful woman in the country to be their _date_ for the evening. And here I thought you didn’t have a romantic bone in your body.” 

Byleth splutters, caught completely off guard. “Romantic… who said anything about romance?” 

Not unkindly, Manuela laughs, placing her hand on the professor’s shoulder. “Byleth my dear, you do realize that traditionally the person accompanying the emperor to the dance is their empress or consort, yes?” 

This was completely new information to Byleth, and it almost makes her brain implode. _Oh goddess, does Edelgard know? How can she not?_

 _But she said yes._

“Judging by the utterly bewildered expression on your face, I’m guessing you had no clue.” Manuela sighs. “You kids are something else, I swear.” 

“I didn’t know that…” But now Byleth isn’t sure. If she had known beforehand, would she still have asked? Would her chest still have tightened when Edelgard had said yes with obvious delight? 

“Then why did you ask her?” 

“I…” Suddenly she feels incredibly self-conscious about her decision making process. “I didn’t want anyone else to go with her,” Byleth admits quietly. 

That earns her a rather large chuckle. “I didn’t take you for the jealous type Professor.” Manuela gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Would it make you feel better if I told you that Edelgard hasn’t taken a single person to the Imperial Ball in the five years she’s been emperor?” 

_She hasn’t?_ “That’s… good to hear.” She wasn’t quite sure, but Byleth felt so utterly relieved. The idea that anyone else would go with Edelgard to the ball fills her with a feeling of personal revulsion - but knowing that she would be the first makes her chest feel as if butterflies had been set loose inside her ribcage. It wasn’t unpleasant. It even felt _good._

“Honestly, it’s adorable how much the two of you pretend not to be clingy about each other.” Manuela puts a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. “I wonder how she would have felt if you went with someone else?” 

“I wouldn’t ask anyone else.” She was certain about that. _I only want Edelgard._

“How silly of me to think you would.” Manuela is all smiles, and claps her hands together with enthusiasm. “Well, now that you have a date, we should discuss logistics, no?” 

Byleth tilts her head. “Logistics? You mean like battle tactics.” 

“No Professor; I’m talking about the more practical matters. Like what you plan on wearing, for example.” 

“Oh.” Byleth looks down at the black trousers she wore, complimented by a matching dress shirt trimmed with gold. The jacket she kept over her shoulders was highlighted with red, a large eagle emblazoned on the front. “I was just going to with something like this.” 

And now Manuela actually looks frustrated with her for the first time. “If it were anyone but you, I’d assume that was a joke. But since it is you, I need to make this very clear; there is no chance in hell I’ll allow you to go to the Imperial Ball dressed like that.” 

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? I quite like it.” Byleth did miss her old outfits, but found that Edelgard’s taste in fashion suited her, and hadn’t felt the need to ask for anything different. 

“Professor, let’s assume you don’t care about adhering to expected social norms… don’t you want to impress Edelgard?” 

That caught Byleth’s attention. “Of course I do.” Then the realization hits. “I need to wear something formal.” 

Manuela’s smile returns. “There we go. Now, I imagine you don’t own a ballgown or anything like that.” She laughs. “So we’ll have to find you a dress.” 

“I don’t like dresses,” Byleth states. Mercenaries generally didn’t go out in clothing that could hinder their movement, so skirts and dresses were usually not an option. Not that she had wanted to wear them anyway. 

“But Edelgard does,” Manuela says, and Byleth knows she’s been put in checkmate. Because if there was anything that would make her do something she didn’t like, it would be to see Edelgard smile when looking at her. 

“Okay… but where am I supposed to get one?” And suddenly Byleth feels rather ashamed at how shortsighted her plan had been. All she had wanted to do was dance with Edelgard, yet it clearly wasn’t that simple. 

Manuela’s grin turns mischievous. “Well, we’re about the same size, don’t you think?” Though Byleth wasn’t exactly sure which _size_ she was referring to. “Give me some time, and I think I can modify an old stage dress of mine into something that will really take our emperor’s breath away.” 

Byleth still wasn’t sure about the whole situation, but she did feel grateful for how much of her idiocy Manuela was willing to put up with. So she leans over and gives the physician a firm hug as thanks. 

“I know I can be hard to deal with. But I’m lucky to have a friend like you, Manuela.” 

“Aw, you can be a real sweetheart when you want to be Professor.” She purses her lips thoughtfully. “You know, you really have changed so much since we first met.” 

“I get that a lot.” 

Manuela laughs. “Yes, I imagine you do. But it is true. The old Byleth would never have given anyone a hug, much less willingly. And don’t get me started on how much more in tune with your own feelings you are. It’s quite a welcome change for the better.” 

“It’s scares me sometimes, to think I used to be so empty.” Byleth was starting to feel overwhelmed by the complexity of her emotions. It had been so easy before this, to not have to be aware. To simply follow orders, battle to battle, conflict to conflict, death to death. The Ashen Demon had consumed everything, reducing the young woman to little more than a doll. 

And then she had met the girl on the throne and the students that had opened their hearts to her, and little by little she found she could do the same. And the Ashen Demon had retreated under the weight of this new existence. 

These moments had changed her. There had been the victory in the mock battle. The smiles on the Black Eagles faces as she celebrated with them. The thrill that came not from fighting, but pride when her students succeeded. And again at the battle of the Eagle and Lion, and the feast they shared with the others. The night of the ball, sneaking away to the Goddess Tower, a buried hope someone else had done the same.

The first time Edelgard had called her “my teacher”. 

And there was the flash of fury that had come in the Holy Tomb at the revelation of the Flame Emperor. The despair that had accompanied it, the quiet resignation of a distorted fate. And the Ashen Demon had clawed itself back to the surface. 

_And I let it. I gave in, and almost lost her forever._

“I think it was my students. They helped me realize that even someone like me could be human… and Edelgard…she…” Byleth realizes she was mumbling now and grips her head as if to contain the stray words. 

“Oh dear…” Manuela puts her arms back around Byleth, patting her reassuringly on the back. “You were fortunate to have them, just as they were to have you. And Edelgard, well… I think the two of you really bring out the best in each other.” 

Byleth remembers how unsure they had been at the beginning, when the wounds of their conflict were still fresh. How scared she was that what had come between them would be impossible to overcome. But instead their shared pain and fear only served to draw them closer together, and now… 

“I can’t imagine my life without her,” Byleth says suddenly, almost surprising herself. She knew it was true, had known it for a while, but to admit it out loud… _I never want to lose her again._

Yet Manuela doesn’t seem shocked, nodding sagely. “And I think you should tell her that, once the two of you are ready.” 

_There’s still some distance between us…When could we ever be ready?_

_And what exactly would it mean to her?_

“I’ll get started on that dress. But if you ever need someone to talk to, my door is always open.” Manuela gives Byleth one last reassuring pat on the shoulder before heading off, leaving her with just those wild and errant thoughts. 

—

“Edelgard.” 

She looks up from the report she was reading, eyes blinking once. “I sense a question you want to ask me.” 

“Yes…” Byleth brings the tips of her fingers together in a vague triangle shape. “Would you be willing to braid my hair?” 

Now Edelgard blinks multiple times in rapid succession. “You want me to braid your hair?” 

“If you’re amicable to the idea, yes.” Byleth tries to tinge her voice with a pleading sweetness, though she suspects it comes across as insincere. 

They were sitting together in Edelgard’s room, having adjourned there after an uneventful dinner. The emperor had insisted on a glass of wine; now she was already on her second. Byleth was still slowly making her way through the first. _I prefer beer._

It was without prompting that the idea had formed in Byleth’s head and she felt bold enough to ask - considering how easy other acts of physical contact came to them, it was hardly unreasonable. But she felt that it was a little odd, in spite of the much larger question she had proposed earlier in the day. 

Edelgard’s smile is a straightforward answer, and she puts the papers away very willingly. “I certainly am amicable. In fact, that sounds like fun.” Standing up, she makes her way over to a vanity, dragging a chair with her. She places it in front of the mirror, then points at it. “Come, sit.” 

Byleth found it vaguely amusing how even those simple words came out like commands. She obeys, placing herself behind the mirror and in front of Edelgard. Looking in the reflection, she sees her remove the red gauntlets more suited for battle than palace life and set them on the counter. 

“So, what brought this on?” Edelgard’s voice is light and curious.

“I wanted to try out some different styles… but I don’t really know how.” Byleth finds it’s a little hard to admit. “I never had anyone to teach me.” 

“Oh.” There’s a reassuring hand that falls on her shoulder. “Did you want to try something different for the Ball?” 

Byleth nods. 

“I used to help my sisters with their hair all the time, or they’d help me with mine.” Even in the mirror’s reflection, Byleth can see Edelgard’s nostalgic smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve been been able to do this with anyone.” 

“Well, I’m going to apologize in advance, because mine is a bit of a mess.” 

“It can’t be that bad.”

Suddenly Byleth feels gentle hands run through her hair, fingers trying to separate the thick strands that made up the unruly mane that runs down to past her shoulders. 

There’s a sharp intake of breath, and Byleth can hear Edelgard eat her own words. 

“Ugh Professor, your hair is so knotted. And these split ends… Please tell me you aren’t the type to take a dagger to it when you cut it,” Edelgard complains. Byleth can see her frowning in the reflection of the mirror. 

“…I’ve got some bad news for you then.” 

“Byleth,” Edelgard groans. “At least have someone use scissors next time.” 

“I’m actually thinking of growing it out.” This was the first she had actually thought of it, but it felt better to say than to admit she was just too lazy to properly cut it. 

“Oh?” One of Edelgard’s hands runs the full length of her hair, falling off as it reaches the end. “I think that might look good on you.” 

_Well now I’m definitely doing it._

An arm extends past Byleth and grabs a hairbrush from the vanity. Humming softly, Edelgard starts to brush her hair, gently working out the knots and tangles of the bright green locks. 

“Did you tell Hubert?” Byleth asks. It had been something she was concerned over, as the man might very well decide to interfere with her plans for the ball, citing any number of reasons. 

“About you inviting me to the dance?” Edelgard gives a small hum of assent. “I did.” 

“And?” 

There’s a soft giggle. “Well, you know him. But I made it clear that it was my choice to say yes, and that was that.” For a second Edelgard’s hand places itself on Byleth’s cheek before moving upwards, holding her head in place for another round of brushing. “As if I’d let anything stop me. I’m quite excited.” 

“Oh. I am too.” Byleth leans her head back so she’s staring straight up at the emperor. “I can’t wait to dance with you, Edelgard.” 

She blushes so deeply that the red of her dress looks light in comparison. Holding a hand to her face, Edelgard can’t help but smile as she speaks. “Byleth, I swear. Sometimes… sometimes you’re too much.” 

The smile is infectious, and Byleth can’t help but grin too. Taking both of her hands, Edelgard places them on the side of the professor’s head, carefully pushing it back to its original position. 

“Please do hold still. You did want me to help you, remember?” The brushing continues. 

“As you command, Your Majesty.” 

Rather than protest as she usually does at the teasing, Edelgard just gives a flustered grunt of approval. 

“You know…” Byleth says after some minutes of silence. “You’ve been calling me by my name far more often than you used to.” 

Edelgard chuckles at the truth of the observation. “I suppose I do. If I’m being honest, it helps alleviate my guilt a little.” There’s a pause. “And it feels nice to say.” 

“Guilt?” 

“Over your situation.” Her hand runs through the side of Byleth’s hair, picking apart the snarls and strands. “The more I use your name… the more it feels like we’re equals. Like I haven’t robbed you of your freedom.” 

“I’ve never truly been free. You haven’t taken anything I actually possessed.” 

“Hmmm.” Edelgard’s hum is soft, and she continues to run a brush through the tangle of hair. “We’re going to have to disagree on that.” 

“You know, it’s unbecoming of an emperor to suffer guilt over someone like me.” She tries to say it in a playful manner, but instantly realizes Edelgard doesn’t see it that way. 

“Byleth, I don’t feel guilty because you used to be my enemy; I feel guilty because you’re my friend.” 

She knows that, but it doesn’t make her feel any less uneasy. They were so close, yet this was still the gap that separated them. _That stops me from just being honest…_

Edelgard places the brush on the vanity, then begins to pull Byleth’s hair back, separating them into different sections. As she begins to cross the strands of hair together, Byleth decides to ask a question. 

“Do you remember what you told me that night in the Goddess Tower?” 

“ _I have made the world my enemy, and if you are not with me, then you are against me,"_ Edelgard repeats from memory. “Yes, I do recall.” Then she leans forward, putting her arms around Byleth’s shoulders. “I am very grateful to have been proven wrong,” she says softly, her words as close as her lips. 

The smile returning to her face, Byleth puts her hand up and places it on Edelgard’s cheek, rubbing it gently. “Looks like I’ve been able to teach you more than just combat after all.”

That coaxes a laugh out of Edelgard, who pulls back and continues to braid the professor’s hair. “And what of me? Have I been able to teach you anything?” 

_More than you could ever know._

Before Byleth can give a real answer, Edelgard takes a ribbon and uses it to secure the end of the braid before stepping back. 

“There. It’s not perfect, thanks to hair that’s far more uncooperative than you are, but I think it suits you, my teacher.” She holds up a small hand-mirror, the reflection in the smaller one showing the larger. Turning around, Byleth inspects her hair in it. 

Despite Edelgard’s grumbling over the unruliness of her hair, the braid itself was well made, the three strands weaved expertly over and under each other. The pattern was more complex then Byleth expected; what catches her by surprise was the ribbon holding it all together - a light purple, matching the one Edelgard had one worn as a princess. 

“How do I look?” Byleth asks, giving Edelgard the biggest grin she can. 

“You look very good, my teacher.” That familiar redness returns to the emperor’s face, though she doesn’t try and hide it this time. “Very… cute.” 

Byleth’s blush matches, but the smile never fades. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called ‘cute’ before.” She reaches out and offers her hand, which Edelgard takes without hesitation. “You’re very cute too.” 

“I think you’ve had too much wine,” Edelgard complains, thought not without the corners of her mouth twitching, which causes Byleth to burst out in laughter. 

“You started it! And besides, I’ve only had half a glass,” she says as she points to the table. “Meanwhile you’ve had two.” 

“Oh.” Edelgard places a hand on her own forehead. “I’ve had too much wine.” 

“Very cute.” 

“Byleth…” But she still grips the professor’s hand tightly. “Please don’t tease me.” 

“Cuuuuuute.” 

Edelgard crosses her arms in a gesture Byleth finds overly dramatic - and adorable as well. “Do I need to force you to ask me permission to open your mouth from now on?” The fact that they were still holding hands only made the threat seem empty. 

“I hope not. You’ve already got me metaphorically shackled, I’d rather not be metaphorically gagged as well.” 

“Then you would do well to keep such comments to yourself, or save them for a more appropriate moment, if such a thing exists.” But even Edelgard is wearing a small smile now, and shaking her head doesn’t hide it. 

“Fine, fine.” Byleth pretends to acquiesce. “Though only you could possibly threaten someone in such a way. It’s very…” 

“Don’t you dare finish that.” 

“…Cute.” 

—

True to her word Manuela had stopped by at some point and left the promised dress on Byleth’s bed. Holding it in front of her, she admits to herself that maybe she could like this one. At its base the dress was a dark blue, much like the deepness of the ocean. It was slimming, and she imagines it would hug her figure in a flattering manner. Two slits had been cut at the bottom sides, giving her legs more mobility - and more visibility - while the sleeves had been removed entirely. She didn’t have to try it on to know that it would highlight the prominence of her muscles. 

_I wonder… was this for my benefit, or Edelgard’s?_

But it was the modifications that interested Byleth the most. What Manuela had done was affix pieces of lightweight armor to the front and back, reminiscent of the pattern she had worn during her mercenary and teaching days. They were a soft shade of silver-steel, and there was almost a nostalgic quality to the design. It was, she thought, the perfect blending of who she was; The Ashen Demon and the Professor. Not one or the other, but both, her past and her present. 

_And what of my future?_

There’s a memory that stirs in her mind, presenting itself unbidden. Ordinarily she rejects such moments of remembrance, not comfortable with recalling her own past. But she allows this one to form, coalescing at the forefront of her mind. 

—

_When Byleth was young, her father had taken her to a market located on the border of the Empire and the Alliance. It was the day of a special festival, and the entire town was in attendance. Bright streamers hung from the buildings, colorful flags adorned doorways and windows, and everyone had put their best products on display. Yet the colorful stalls, loaded with ripe fruits, sharp weapons and all manner of exotic baubles attracted no attention from her. She simply followed her father, staring ahead the whole time. He would ask for her opinion on purchases, and she would just reply with what he wanted to hear. This is how it had been for years, for as long as either of them could remember. It was an uncomfortable existence, but neither were capable of breaking it._

_Then, when she glanced in another direction simply by chance, she saw something that did catch her attention. A man, tall and handsome, was talking to another; less tall but equally good-looking. The two men laughed at something, then to Byleth’s complete and utter astonishment, kissed each other._

_“Daddy!” She pulled on her father’s sleeve, forcing him to turn from the shields he was admiring._

_“What’s up kiddo?” Jeralt always tried to give his daughter his full attention during the rare moments she demanded it._

_“Those boys are kissing!” She tried to point, but the two men were walking off, holding hands. Jeralt nodded._

_“They’re a nice couple, aren’t they?” He tried to return to the shields, but Byleth yanked on his sleeve again._

_“But Daddy, those are boys!” Byleth’s face is scrunched up in her particular brand of excitement, something Jeralt didn’t see too often, or often enough. “I thought boys and girls kissed?!”_

_Jeralt sighed to himself. “I guess I never went over this stuff with you, did I?” He kneeled, though he still towered over her. “When two people like each other, they can show it by kissing. Doesn’t matter if they are a boy and a girl, or two boys. Love is love, right kid?”_

_“Right!” Byleth appeared to think for a moment. “Oh, but what about two girls? Can two girls kiss?!?”_

_Jeralt laughed. “Of course they can. Falling in love with someone is just something that happens. And it can happen between girls too.” He reached over and tousled Byleth’s hair, then picked her up._

_She pulled on his braid. “So I could marry a girl?”_

_“Of course. Though I’m still going to scrutinize her like I would a man. Only the best for my little angel.”_

_And for some reason, the thought made Byleth excited. She tried to imagine herself in the future. Would she be happy? What kind of person could she fall in love with?_

But the Ashen Demon had grown up before then, and all understanding of herself had been locked behind a heart of stone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think my favorite part of writing this story is getting to see how Byleth and Edelgard interact with each other as a result of these different circumstances affecting their prior relationship. Such as El generally being more assertive while Byleth is more prone to doubt and uncertainty. I'm not sure if its a realistic take on their characters, but it's definitely fun to write. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who reads and continues to follow this fic! I genuinely feel lucky for all of the support I've received.


	14. Ballrooms, Dances, and Unspoken Feelings

She was sitting on the edge of her bed slipping into a pair of heels when there’s a knock on the door. Yelling out that it’s unlocked - she had never asked for a replacement key for the one she threw out the window so early on - she stands up and smooths out her dress, letting the armored segments rest against her body. 

The Imperial Minister enters without a further word. “Hubert,” Byleth says with a smile, bouncing over to him. 

She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror; the blue dress fits around her form perfectly, highlighting the curve of her bust and the shape of her legs. The armor only serves to further accent the warrior’s physique she had cultivated all her life. Her divine-green hair was done up in a simple bun, held in place by a thin iron quill. 

“Professor.” Hubert stands there, equally adorned in formal clothing. He wears a ceremonial general’s uniform, several badges pinned to the lapel. A gold aiguillette cord runs from shoulder to neck, matching the colors of the buttons that stretched across the deep black of the outfit, making for a very striking contrast. 

Glancing him over, she smiles. “You look very handsome. Ferdinand’s going to love it.” 

His signature scowl is on full display, but Byleth catches the warmth in his eyes, and eventually he settles on a more neutral expression. _Everyone’s got a soft spot. Looks like Ferdie is his._

“And you look very lovely, Professor. That dress of yours… I think you’ll turn some heads.” She senses the compliment is genuine, and doesn’t drop the smile. 

“It is unique, isn’t it? Manuela made it for me.” Byleth spins slightly on her feet, finding that she’s enjoying herself more than she expected. 

Hubert’s mouth twists upwards wryly. “I hope you aren’t expecting to get into an actual fight at some point this evening.” He gestures towards the door. “Are you ready to go?” 

“I’m all set.” 

“Good.” He holds out an arm. “Perhaps I may escort you there?” 

She slips her arm through his, pulling close. “I’d be honored, Minister Vestra.” 

Now he laughs, a coarse and slightly sinister sound, but a laugh all the same. “Tell me, does that type of false flattery actually work?” 

“Not really,” Byleth admits. “It’s just fun to tease highborn nobles like that.” 

“And Her Majesty?” 

“Always flustered. It’s almost too easy.”

They’ve begun walking down the hallway, surprisingly coordinated despite the difference in their height and footwear. Evidence of the ball was all around them as servants run back and forth, carrying food and drinks towards the ballroom and kitchens. Decorations, opulent and grand in the Imperial style, grew more dense as they walk closer. 

“You know Professor, most people would think twice before _teasing_ the Emperor of Adrestia.” Hubert and Byleth stop for a moment, turning to the side to let a group of guards pass. There’s something of a smirk etched onto his pallid face. 

Byleth returns the expression, jostling his arm slightly as she steps back further. “And Edelgard has yet to punish me for it. You too, for that matter.” 

“That would be because Her Majesty’s weakness towards you is apparently rubbing off on me.” Hubert scratches his head, clearly not pleased with this admission. They continue walking, drawing closer to the ballroom. 

“Is that why you asked to bring me, so you could explain that you’ve grown fond of having me around?” Byleth can’t help but grin at him, which Hubert deflects with his own scowl. As much as she shouldn’t, Byleth enjoys the back and forth she has with him. He was, once you got past the grim exterior, a rather reasonable person. Sometimes. 

“Enjoy it while you can Professor, because you’ll never catch me saying that again.”

They reach the door to a waiting room, where Hubert stops. Byleth removes her arm from his, but not before patting it affectionately. “I quite like you too Hubert. It’s probably a strange thing to say given the circumstances, but I do consider you a friend. Of sorts,” she adds, hoping it will spare his pride a little. 

He grunts, and she isn’t sure if it’s in affirmation or displeasure. Pointing to the door, he bows slightly. “Her Majesty is waiting for you inside.” There’s a few seconds pause while his eyes drill into hers. “Try not to ruin her evening, Professor.” He walks off without a further word, leaving Byleth to think he had somehow just gained the upper hand. 

_I still don’t understand you, Hubert._

—

The waiting room is small but well decorated. The chairs and couches look comfortable just by first glance, and portraits of Emperors past line the walls, each beautifully painted in differing styles and poses. But it’s none of those things that attract Byleth’s attention. Her gaze is drawn to the woman standing on the other side of the room, her back turned. 

“Edelgard…” Byleth says softly, which captures her attention. She turns around, and the professor’s breath catches in her throat. 

The emperor was wearing a stunning red and black dress, the length of which ran down to the red heels she had chosen for the occasion. The fabric was soft in its appearance, clinging to Edelgard’s body as it showed the slender contours of her build, the faint outlines of her honed muscles visible beneath the sleeves. A half length cape was affixed to her shoulders, pinned in place by large black feathers. Her silver hair cascades down around her, kept neat by several ribbons and flower-shaped pins. A final adornment in the shape of a circlet rests on her head, gold and red, the right side fashioned into the profile of a small eagle’s wing. 

Edelgard smiles as she sees Byleth, her eyes running up and down the length of her figure. She holds out her hands and the professor takes them, still trying to find her voice. But when she does…

“Edelgard… you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met,” Byleth says suddenly and with absolute certainty. 

Her immediate reaction is to grip Byleth’s hands more tightly, the blush on her face as intense and red as an inferno. Edelgard’s breathing comes out ragged for a moment, as if she had been struck in the heart. 

“You… you say that with such ease, Byleth,” she manages to stammer out. 

“Because it’s true.” Byleth finds that her own face has grown hot as well, but doesn’t regret anything she’s said. “Perhaps I should tell you more often?” 

“I.. That is rather unnecessary.” Edelgard manages to bring a hand to Byleth’s cheek, gently brushing away a loose strand of hair. “You are… quite beautiful as well,” she admits quietly. “I’ve always thought so.” 

The sensation that Edelgard’s words bring is so new to Byleth that she almost loses the balance in her legs. She grabs the other woman’s shoulder for support, and only realizes right then how close they are. 

Edelgard’s violet eyes are impossibly wide, hands on Byleth gripping more tightly. Her lips open slightly, as if she’s about to speak. There’s a spark, a _something_ that passes between them, and Byleth is almost sure she could close the distance in a moment. 

But then a look of guilt passes over Edelgard’s face and she pulls back, turning to the side. The smile softens somewhat, but she still keeps it there, almost as if afraid to lose it. Eyes briefly flashing back to Byleth, she speaks slowly. 

“I… I quite like your dress. It suits you.” 

“Oh.” Byleth spins around slowly, showing off. “Manuela helped me out with it.” She’s grateful for the line Edelgard had thrown her, as she surely would have drowned in the tension otherwise. 

“Did she?” Edelgard seems amused at the idea. “I must admit, it has her flair for the dramatic.” 

They share a laugh, the atmosphere dissolving. That moment between them still existed, but neither seemed afraid anymore. 

“You should thank her; I rushed into asking you without any sort of preparations whatsoever.” 

Edelgard’s smile is so genuine that Byleth almost pulls her closer. “That really is quite like you, isn’t it?” She holds up her hand, still entwined with the other woman’s. “I still would have said yes.” 

“Even if-” 

But she cuts Byleth off, squeezing their hands together tightly. “Byleth, I wanted to spend this time with you. Everything else is just a bonus.” 

“Oh.” _When you talk like that…_ “And what about your responsibilities as emperor?” 

“Yes, well I can’t avoid those completely.” Edelgard holds out the crook of her arm, and Byleth takes it in her own. “Looks like you’ll just have to come along with me.” 

“Not letting me out of your sight, huh?” 

“Nope,” Edelgard replies with a slight smirk. “You have a tendency to get into trouble that way.” 

They start to walk away together, arm-in-arm. “I just find it humorous that you protest my teasing, then turn around and do it towards me,” Byleth says without a hint of malice or unease. She does find it funny - the Edelgard she knew years prior would crack jokes, but not nearly as often as her friend did now. It was oddly comforting. 

“I seem to recall you telling me,” Edelgard retorts, “it’s ‘ _because you let me get away with it_ ’, no?” 

“Oh, but that’s not even fair! How am I supposed to stop the _Emperor_ from teasing me?” 

Edelgard’s playfully raised eyebrow is all the answer Byleth gets. 

—

As it turns out, part of Edelgard’s responsibilities included greeting the most high-ranking guests - or being greeted by them as they fawn over her in an obvious attempt for her favor. 

“This is excruciating,” Byleth complains as another sycophantic noble kisses Edelgard’s hand and walks off to join the party forming in the ballroom. Most of the guests only gave her curious glances, seemingly unsure or unaware of her significance despite being at the emperor’s side. A few did greet her, but only out of politeness. 

“Ease up Professor. This is tradition.” Edelgard briefly exchanges words with a man in a large red cloak identifying him as a member of the Imperial Research Institution. 

“I thought you hated traditions.” 

The man bows and heads off, giving the two a short reprieve. Turning to Byleth, Edelgard frowns. “I do hate most traditions, in particular those of no discernible benefit to anyone. But I’m still the Adrestian Emperor, and there are still things expected of me.” 

“Hmmm.” 

Edelgard raises a hand to her mouth as she chuckles. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of the attention? I could have them greet you as well, if you’d like.” 

“Ugh, I’d rather be back in my room.” 

Smiling, Edelgard places her palm on Byleth’s cheek. “Let me do my job for a while longer, and then I promise the rest of the evening is yours. Fair?” 

“Fair,” Byleth says with a nod. Then she sighs in a somewhat guilty manner. “It wouldn’t hurt for me to act less… possessive of you.” 

Edelgard’s earlier chuckle becomes a full laugh. “It would be hypocritical of me to condemn you for that, since I’ve been accused of acting the same.” Her face reddens with that admission. 

With the matter seemingly settled, both turn to greet the newest arrival, a noblewoman with dark purple hair. Something about her seems familiar to Byleth, even though she knew they had never met. 

“Ah, Emperor Edelgard!” The woman rushes over and embraces her, planting several kisses on the ruler’s cheek. “You look wonderful. Absolutely radiant.” 

“Countess, you know flattery will get you nowhere,” Edelgard replies with a slight giggle, and Byleth realizes the two were seemingly well acquainted and on rather friendly terms. “It’s a delight to have you attend this year.” 

“Who’s the flatterer now?” The woman turns her attention to Byleth. “Oh, and you must be Professor Byleth Eisner, no?” 

“I…” _How did she know?_ “I am. A pleasure, Countess.” Byleth gives a short bow, not wanting to cause trouble for Edelgard with improper decorum. 

But the noblewoman waves the gesture away with her hand. “Please, none of that. In fact, I should be thanking you. My daughter was in your class.” 

Then suddenly it all fits into place for Byleth. “You’re Bernadetta’s mother. Countess Varley.” 

“One and the same.” She holds out her hand, and the professor shakes it. “Thank you for taking such good care of her. I know she can be a little… difficult.” 

“How is Bernie?” Byleth asks. She found herself missing the timid girl, who despite her meek behavior still displayed a remarkable strength of character when it was needed. 

“She’s doing rather well, if I may say so.” The Countess tilts her head, looking Byleth up and down as if examining her. “I don’t know what it is you did, but she came back a changed woman. She does stay home most of the time, but is out of her room more often than not, helping with tasks and projects around the estate.” 

“That’s wonderful.” And Byleth really did think so. Of all her students it was Bernadetta who always worried her most, and she was relieved that time hadn’t served to undo her growth. 

“My husband-” The Countess frowns. “My _former husband,_ really hurt her, poor girl, so I’m thrilled with the progress she’s made, especially with the help of her teacher and friends.” She turns to Edelgard. “You too, Your Majesty. Bernadetta speaks very warmly of your kindness and leadership.” 

“Oh, does she?” Edelgard’s cheeks flush slightly at the praise. “I regret that I haven’t seen her in so long, but with the war…” 

“She understands. Perhaps I’ll have her make the journey to Enbarr one of these days, when she’s ready.” Bowing to the both of them, Countess Varley gives Byleth a final grateful smile before she departs into the palace. 

“Well now…” Byleth says, unable to stop grinning wildly. “I’m glad Bernie’s doing okay.” 

“I’m glad too, my teacher.” Edelgard is all smiles as well, her focus fixed on the professor. “And you seem pleased with yourself, if you don’t mind me saying.” 

Byleth does find it difficult to express humility in moments like this. She was just so _proud_ of her students, and rather proud of herself too. “I’m a damn good teacher.” 

Edelgard bursts out in laughter, clutching at her sides. “Humble too, apparently.” 

“Yes. I’m a damn humble teacher.” 

She has to hurriedly explain to a passing guard why the emperor is leaning against the wall, apparently wheezing in what he assumes is pain. It takes Edelgard coming out of her laughing fit to get him to believe it. 

—

“So,” Byleth says as they finish greeting another round of nobles, their numbers winding down somewhat, “why is it that the Countess knew who I was?” 

Edelgard looks just as confused as she is, but before she can answer a new voice interrupts her. 

“That would be because it’s the worst kept secret in the Empire.” 

The speaker was a beautiful green-eyed brunette, adorned in a flowing maroon dress. She stood at the palace entrance, her eyes flitting between Byleth and Edelgard, wearing a self-satisfied smirk. 

_Is that…?_

“Dorothea!” Both Byleth and Edelgard say together. Rushing over, Byleth grabs and pulls her into a fierce hug, practically lifting her off her feet. 

“Whoa Professor, easy!” Dorothea giggles as she puts her arms around the other woman. “It’s good to see you too.” 

When they separate she gives Byleth a strong look-over, nodding with approval. “Wow Professor, you look gorgeous. I mean, you always do, but this is something else.” She turns her attention to Edelgard, shooting her a wink. “Looks like you finally gained the courage to ask her out, huh Edie?” 

“I… I - what?” Edelgard splutters as her features turn red at the suggestion. 

Laughing, Byleth shakes her head. “Actually, I asked her to go with me.” 

“Oh, looks like you’re the one taking charge then.” Dorothea gives Edelgard another wink, which causes the emperor’s face to burn even hotter. “It’s about time.” 

“Technically, she’s in charge of me, considering my whole… situation.” Byleth hopes that gets the point across. Dorothea nods knowingly. 

“Yes, I imagine you being here in Enbarr is a little complicated.” She purses her lips and taps her chin in contemplation. “Edie’s treating you okay, right?” 

“Why does everyone assume I’m not?” Edelgard complains. Byleth and Dorothea share a giggle, and the former songstress walks over and throws her arms around Edelgard. 

“I’m just teasing, Edie. It’s good to see you too.” 

Edelgard sighs but leans into the embrace. “It’s been far too long Dorothea.” 

“I know. I’ve been meaning to visit, but between the Empire and Brigid, I’ve had my hands full.” 

“Dorothea is a diplomat assigned to Brigid,” Edelgard explains to Byleth. “She works directly for the royal family.” 

Taking Edelgard and Byleth’s hands, she gives them a warm squeeze. “Petra sends both of you her love, and apologizes that she can’t be here today.” 

“I understand. Her grandfather was sick for a short while, yes?” 

“He was, but is making a swift recovery. Still, she wants to remain by his side until he’s fully healed.” 

“Then we look forward to seeing her when we can,” Byleth adds. She briefly wonders at what point it went from _Edelgard and I_ to _we_.

“Oh!” Dorothea practically jumps with excitement. “The two of you should visit Brigid at some point. It’s such a wondrous place, and the Macneary’s are fantastic hosts.” 

“Thats a fine suggestion, but…” The corner of Edelgard’s mouth twitches. “I can’t afford to take such a long trip, between my own governance and the war.” 

“I figured you’d say that, but I just wanted to offer. And how about you Professor?” Dorothea’s intentions are clear - she knows the answer she’s about to receive, but wants to hear it from both of them herself. “I could keep a close eye on you if that’s what Edie’s worried about.” 

Byleth looks to Edelgard and their eyes meet. She tries to offer the younger woman a small smile, and she returns it, violet eyes flashing. 

“I appreciate the offer Dorothea, but I’d prefer to stay with Edelgard.” _My choice or not._ “As she’s fond of saying, I - no, we, get into a lot of trouble if we aren’t together.”

“Is that right?” Dorothea says with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, staring directly at Edelgard. “The two of you can’t stand to be separated, huh.” 

Seemingly eager to move on from the topic at hand, Edelgard coughs loudly and obviously. “Perhaps we can circle back to the fact that apparently everybody knows the Professor is here?” 

“Oh yes, that.” Raising a hand to her mouth to stifle another giggle, Dorothea looks between the two of them. “Well, anybody that’s anybody in the Empire has heard stories of the green-haired woman the emperor so affectionately keeps in her company.” She winks again. “One she calls Professor.” 

Edelgard’s eyes are wide as the moon, and her complexion is pale as she slowly brings a hand to her face, groaning. “It was me…I gave it away.” 

“There there…” Byleth says as she pats the dejected emperor on the back. “Honestly, I was kind of getting tired of the secrecy.” 

“I admit, I was too, but still…” Edelgard appears to be processing the news, no doubt already attempting to determine how best it could be used in their favor. “I was hoping to do so on our terms. The Church will no doubt hear of it soon, if they haven’t already.” 

The idea of Seteth finding out that she was willingly having tea parties and holding hands with _Emperor Edelgard_ sent a soft chuckle through her body, which she let die before it left her mouth. She imagines Flayn would be relieved to hear of her survival, and might even find the entire thing ironic; despite everything she had once been a Black Eagle, even if Byleth doubted her opinion of Edelgard was very high. 

But she spends no time thinking of what Rhea’s reaction would be beyond _destructive_. There was a chance that it would appear as though Byleth had defected, instead of being the well-treated hostage she was presented as. And if that happened… well, she was sure word of it might even reach her ears. 

Dorothea’s sigh breaks her thoughts, drawing Byleth back to the real world. There’s something of a melancholic expression etched across her beautiful facial features, but she still keeps her smile, as if there was something both wonderful and saddening about everything. 

“You know Edie, I had half a mind to come here and lecture you about keeping the Professor all to yourself…” Edelgard’s face momentarily contorts into a slightly shameful grimace, tinged with a light blush. “But seeing the two of you together like this… it’s so comforting I can’t stay mad.” 

“I should have told you,” Edelgard admits. “She was your teacher too, and I-”

But Dorothea shakes her head and steps forward. She places a hand on each of their arms, and Byleth can see that her eyes are almost shimmering. “When I heard that the Professor was in Enbarr, and that both of you were getting along again… I was so happy.” Her heads leans forward, eyes downcast. “I couldn’t stand the idea that you ever hated each other.” 

“Dorothea we…” But Byleth finds her words cut off when she and Edelgard are pulled into a shared hug, Dorothea putting her arms around them. 

“I know things aren’t perfect, and there’s still some kinks to work out. But please,” she whispers. “Please don’t ever fight again. We couldn’t take it.” She pulls back, staring directly at Edelgard. “You were the heart of the Black Eagles.” She shifts her gaze to Byleth. “And you were the soul. And without both, we…” 

_We fell apart._

It hurts Byleth to hear those words. As much as her strife with Edelgard had brought pain, she couldn’t imagine how the rest of her students had felt. They had been forced to choose sides, and most seemed to have chosen Edelgard, at least for a while. But it hadn’t been enough. 

She looks to Edelgard and sees the conflict etched across her face, emotions warring with each other. The Flame Emperor had spent so long telling herself, _convincing_ herself that her ambitions would push away everyone away, only to slowly have to come to terms with the fact that maybe they were willing to push back to keep it all together. 

_I’m sorry._

_I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you all needed me._

_And I needed all of you._

“Oh goodness,” Dorothea wipes at her eyes. “I’ve gone and embarrassed myself. And only just after seeing the Professor again.” 

“That’s quite alright,” Byleth says reassuringly. “At our reunion, Edelgard atta-” That’s as far as she gets before the emperor clamps a hand down on her mouth, muffling her. 

“My teacher.” The glare that Edelgard gives Byleth is so intense that for a moment she’s worried her twin crests might activate on accident. “It is hardly necessary to tell her this right now, is it?” 

With a smirk that Edelgard can’t see, Byleth nods in acquiescence and grunts acceptingly. When Edelgard removes the hand, Byleth can’t help but grin at her. She had meant to try and make Dorothea feel better in comparison, but the intention had quickly morphed into a teasing remark somewhere along the way. “You’re so unfair sometimes.” 

“I know,” Edelgard playfully replies, holding out her hand. Byleth takes it without any reservations, squeezing it with a gentle motion to show there were no hard feelings. “Too bad you’re stuck with me.” 

“I can think of much worse.” 

Their exchange is interrupted by a soft chortle from Dorothea, who had been watching the entire scene with a hint of amusement. The sadness in her eyes was vanishing fast, replaced by an understanding lightness. 

“The two of you…” She shakes her head, smiling all the while. “Perhaps I have nothing to worry about.” The statement is reinforced with a small giggle. “Last time we were all together, you certainly weren’t comfortable enough to flirt with each other so openly.” 

Byleth and Edelgard look at each other with matching expressions of embarrassment, their faces burning simultaneously. But neither say anything to dispute Dorothea’s statement, either from not willing to further entertain the thought, or because it contained far more truth than they wished to admit. 

“So Edie,” Dorothea asks somewhat sweetly, the hints of a jesting remark tinged throughout. “What _did_ you do when you saw the Professor after all that time?” 

This time she allows Byleth to tell the story, and her own groans at the recollection are overshadowed only by Dorothea’s mortified squeaking. 

—

Byleth had been in the Imperial ballroom once before, when she found it while exploring the palace in a state of boredom. It hadn’t impressed her at the time, being a large and empty space shrouded in the darkness of closed curtains and linen-covered furniture. 

But now the room was absolutely splendid, adorned in all the finest decorations and trappings the Empire had to offer. Tables stacked high with gourmet food were scattered strategically, while a large and well-stocked bar attracts the most attention. Byleth finds it all rather extravagant and completely unnecessary. Edelgard evidently agrees, if the unenthused expression on her face is any indication. 

“Not enjoying yourself?” Byleth takes another sip of champagne - which she admits to herself does taste rather amazing. They were standing together near the front of the room, observing as the other guests mingle and chat amongst themselves. Aside from the occasional delayed greeting, most give the emperor and her date a wide berth; something that was apparently another tradition. _A lonely one._

Edelgard sighs as she finishes off the glass of red wine in her hand. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to be here with you. It’s certainly far better than the last few times I’ve attended.” Byleth smiles upon hearing that and carefully reaches over, putting her arm around Edelgard’s waist. She doesn’t object, only leaning over and resting her head against Byleth’s shoulder. “I just despise all this.” 

“All what?” 

“Everything.” Edelgard gestures to the room and its occupants. “The majority of these nobles and the wretched system that supports them.” She shakes her head. “The fact that I need these people to change anything.” 

Byleth admittedly wasn’t as well versed in political theory as Edelgard was, but she understood the dilemma the emperor faced. “Your authority is derived from those who serve you. Without them you have no power. And you need their support to maintain your rule.” _At least for now._

Edelgard nods. “It’s so horribly ironic, isn’t it? I can’t accomplish everything on my own, so I’m forced to rely on the very institutions I wish to abolish.” 

“As well as those like Arundel…” Byleth didn’t intend for it to sound accusing, just factual. 

“Yes.” The muscles in Edelgard’s jaw clench in frustration. “This terrible power… it has its uses, and use it I must. But that doesn’t mean I don’t hate it.” 

_I wish it weren’t the case for you either. In a fair and kinder world… you would never have been in this position in the first place. You would have grown up happily with your family, never even having to contemplate taking the throne._

_But in that ideal world… we never would have met._

That thought causes a wave of guilt to crash through Byleth’s body. 

“Sometimes,” Edelgard continues, “I wish I could just burn it all to the ground. Those who cling to unjust power… those who slither in the dark… drag them into the light while I show them exactly what it means to be the Flame Emperor.” 

Byleth tightens her grip in an attempt to be comforting. “But you can’t. Building a better future matters more than immediate revenge.” 

Sighing, Edelgard leans further onto Byleth, the two as close together as they could be. She nods, but doesn’t verbally respond. 

“I know it’s probably not my place to say…” Byleth quietly tells her. “But I’m proud of you. Most people couldn’t do what you do, suffer through what you’ve suffered, and still want to put others before yourself.” 

“Someone has to,” Edelgard states with absolute conviction. “Someone has to fight for those who can’t.” Her own arm finds its way to Byleth’s side, and she turns her around so they’re facing each other. “And you’re right; ordinarily it wouldn’t be the place of anyone to speak to the Emperor like that.” Her lips turns upwards into a genuine smile, aimed directly at Byleth and only for Byleth. “But as your student and your friend… thank you, my teacher. You have no idea what your kindness means to me.” 

“You know that if you ever want someone to talk to…”

_To stay by your side…_

_To support you…_

_To be there for you…_

“…all you have to do is ask.” 

_Maybe because I’m too scared to ask myself._

“You already do far more for me than I would expect from anyone. To ask for more would be unfair.” But Edelgard’s voice trails off as she plays with the palm of Byleth’s hand, her fingers dancing back and forth over the calloused skin. “But I feel selfish this evening…”

 _As if we both aren’t._ “How so?” 

“Dorothea wasn’t wrong… I do want you all for myself.” Edelgard blushes at the admission. “I know that’s wrong of me to say, given the nature of, well, all this.” 

“Edelgard, I asked to come with you here because I didn’t want anyone else to.” Byleth finds it incredibly easy to say. “I’m just as selfish as you.”

The emperor’s response is to hug Byleth tightly, not caring if anybody was watching. But despite this, Byleth can’t help but feel terrified that everything could still come crashing down around them. 

_Because if I say what I really want… where would that leave us?_

—

Eventually the guests stop their idle chatter and the orchestral band strikes up a traditional rhythmic tune. Everyone moves over, clearing the center of the ballroom. 

Eager dancers grab the hands of their partners, making their way to the newly created dance floor. The energy in the room and amongst the crowd intensifies, as those on the outside closely watch for their friends and rivals to take a turn; either for support, or to ensure they will upstage them when the time comes. 

Byleth and Edelgard observe the proceedings from a pair of ornate chairs, placed on a dais at the end of the room. She could tell from the occasional glances in her direction that there was some slight confusion and even resentment at her place by Edelgard’s side. Traditionally the emperor has the last dance of the evening, which Byleth was increasingly grateful for, as she only finds herself more and more nervous. 

Nobles waltz slowly with other nobles, their timing and footwork expertly honed. Byleth ignores them, looking instead for her friends. 

Ferdinand drags a very reluctant Hubert to the center of the floor, and although the minister grimaces and groans the entire time, he allows himself to be led in a slow motion by the other man, their bodies swaying in tandem with each other. When they pass by the dais, Byleth swears she sees the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

At some point Dorothea convinces Manuela to join her, and the former singers capture the attention of everyone present with their unorthodox and radiant style - as well timed and lavish as that of a stage production. When they finish they bow, and the crowd calls for an encore, momentarily forgetting they aren’t in the opera hall of Mittlefrank. 

Even Jeritza involves himself with the celebration, though Byleth isn’t sure if its by his choice or not. He and Ladislava share a single, rapid-paced ballet; their movements are more akin to that of a sword-fight than a dance. 

Despite her earlier trepidations, Byleth finds that she enjoys herself, and it’s easy to be swept up in the energy of the moment. She even notices that Edelgard is tapping her foot in beat to the music. 

It almost hurts how _right_ this feels to her. With Edelgard, watching the happy faces of her friends and former students pass by as they enjoy themselves. Feeling a sense of belonging with everyone, as if she had been here all along, and not as a result of her own failures. 

Because if she had been given the opportunity to do it all over, to actually make a choice instead of suffer in doubt and inaction, she would have done everything to be here in this moment again, with all of them.

And she would no longer be the outsider looking in, feeling just a degree detached from everyone else. She would be with them, laughing and dancing without a care, not fighting the uncertainty that accompanied each word or joke.

But then there’s a hand on her own, and soft words are spoken that bring her back to reality. 

“My teacher.” 

Byleth looks around and sees that the dance floor is clearing, everyone forming a tight circle around the space. All eyes fall to her and Edelgard in eager expectation. 

“Oh.” 

Edelgard rises from her chair, stepping down off the dais. She turns back and holds her hand out to Byleth, smiling all the while. 

“Byleth, my teacher. Will you do me the honor of sharing this dance?” 

The audience whispers amongst themselves, most finally realizing just who was accompanying the emperor that evening. 

“… Byleth Eisner…”

“… The professor?” 

“… The Ashen Demon…” 

“… The Church of Seiros…” 

But she ignores all of them, focusing on the only thing that matters to her. Returning the smile, she takes Edelgard’s hand and allows herself to be gracefully led from the raised platform and onto the open space. 

Maybe tonight, she thinks, we can try and be honest with each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo, this was originally going to be a much larger chapter encompassing the entire Imperial Ball, but for the sake of my own sanity (I am a very, very slow writer) and to save the pacing, I've split it into two. Next chapter will feature our girls dance, say some things that probably need to be said at this point, and explore the consequences thereof. Stay tuned, and thank you for everyone's support!


	15. Selfish

The first few steps onto the ballroom floor are the hardest. 

Byleth can feel the eyes in the room focus on her, appraising her, judging her, _loathing_ her. A part of her can’t blame them; she was nothing more than an upstart, a commoner and technical member of the Church. Their resentment was understood. What right did someone like her have to dance with the emperor? 

And the other part of her _relishes_ the negative attention. Here she was, being led unto the dance floor by Emperor Edelgard herself. Not them, but her. 

But not all gazes were unforgiving. Her friends and former students stood to the side, smiling with approval. She catches Ferdinand open his mouth to exclaim something but is elbowed lightly in the ribs by Dorothea, who simply shoots a wink towards Byleth. General Ladislava salutes her with a swift motion across the chest, while Countess Varley and Manuela stand out in a sea of frowns and pursed lips with wide smiles of their own. Even Hubert acknowledges her with a curt nod, his emerald eyes not wholly displeased. 

_All of you… thank you._ Byleth’s dead heart swells with pride and gratitude. She feels the hand on her own squeeze lightly, and knows that she won’t be alone anymore. 

_I think… I think I want it to remain this way. I don’t want to give any of this up._

_I don’t want to let go._

Each step becomes easier, her stride and confidence increasing. Before she knows it they’ve reached the center of the circle, and Edelgard turns to face her. 

“My teacher,” she says with an almost reverence in her voice. “Are you ready?”

Byleth nods, though she can’t help but grin slightly. “You’ll have to forgive me, as I’m not sure my dancing is up to the standards expected here.” 

Edelgard returns the expression. “I expected you might say that. Don’t worry, it’s not that difficult.” She steps closer, her hands entwining around Byleth’s tightly. “I’ll lead, and all you have to do is follow.” 

“That sounds familiar.” 

Humming in knowing acknowledgment, Edelgard moves in close until she’s almost pressing against Byleth. She places an arm around her waist, gently rubbing the small of the professor’s back. Byleth takes her own arm and places it over Edelgard’s, her hand now resting on the emperor’s shoulder. Their other hands remain firmly locked in place by each other’s fingers. 

_She’s so close._ Byleth feels that now-familiar tightening sensation in her chest, and she’s almost grateful that her heart can’t beat; she was sure it would betray her otherwise. She’s faintly aware of the soft drumming of Edelgard’s own heartbeat, and notices that both of their breathing has become slightly irregular. 

Edelgard’s mouth opens slightly as if she’s about to speak, and Byleth is almost overcome with the urge to tell _everything_ with her own lips. They were so close together, and it would be so easy…

But then the band strikes up their instruments, and as the music swells, their dance begins. 

—

True to her word, Edelgard takes control almost immediately. With a precise movement she steps forward with her left foot, and there’s just enough delay in her action that Byleth can respond without falling out of rhythm. 

She steps back with her right, completing the first motion. 

Edelgard nods with approval, the violet in her eyes glowing in the light of the chandeliers hanging overhead. 

Taking another step, she leads to the side with her right foot while her hands carefully tug on Byleth. The gesture is soft and affirming, and Byleth finds it’s easy to go along with it. 

She steps to the side with her left, and the two turn slightly. 

At no point do they take their eyes off each other. Despite the crowd that surrounds them, they remained locked in place with one another, never drifting away. The others don’t matter; only themselves. In this moment, in that space and time, it’s just Byleth. And just Edelgard. 

Just each other. 

Both take another combined step, bending their knees as they do so, rising and falling together. Each motion brings them closer and then further apart. Byleth finds herself almost resenting the few seconds they have to pull away. But as they continue the circuit across the dance floor, the two always find themselves pulled close again. 

_Sometimes it feels like it was fate that we were brought back together._

_Our combined regrets, our mistakes… it wasn’t enough to keep us apart._

_Instead we just hold on to each other even more. As if afraid that letting go will ruin what we’ve built._

Again and again they move forwards and back, pushing and pulling. Their knees dip and rise, bodies turning and rotating as they pass over the floor in this motion. It’s a comfortable pattern, and Byleth settles into it with ease. 

_Edelgard…I…_

Once more Edelgard pushes forward, this time with her right foot. Her leg briefly passes next to Byleth’s, and once again they are pressed up to each other, so close that their lips almost brush. 

And Byleth so desperately wants to want to stay like this, doesn’t want to complete the next step that would separate them. 

But she does, stepping backwards with her left, spinning slowly to the side. And as Edelgard moves forward to close the distance, she finds they’ve completed a single loop. 

They stare at each other, momentarily stalling, their breathing like heavy rainfall. 

As Byleth looks at Edelgard, the purple of her irises, the pale blush of her cheeks, the apparent softness of her mouth, she finds it’s almost overwhelming. And something _ignites_ within her. 

Newfound resolve bolsters Byleth’s nerves, and so does the realization that this wasn’t enough anymore. That they could spend the rest of their lives dancing around their feelings and it would be more painful than telling each other the truth. 

She fixes her expression towards Edelgard, and the other woman opens her eyes wide in understanding. In that half-second they trade roles; Byleth’s arm shifts down to the emperor’s hips, and Edelgard moves hers up to the professor’s shoulders. 

Now it’s Byleth that puts her foot forward, and Edelgard that steps back. Byleth leads the next part of the waltz, and Edelgard follows just as well. 

For every step that Byleth takes, Edelgard reciprocates, and they trace their routine from earlier in reverse. And each time time she finds herself drawn close, the sight of Edelgard’s lips makes her want to tell everything with a single intimate action. 

And each time they come closer and closer. 

Until there’s no more distance for them to cover. 

As the music reaches its crescendo, Byleth decides to end the dance with a flourish. She shoots Edelgard a wink, then raises their hands high. Carefully Byleth spins Edelgard around on her feet, catching her with a well-placed hand on her back. With a final spark of inspiration she lowers her in a dramatic dip, leaning over so they’re looking right in each other’s eyes. 

Wounded lilac against divine green. 

There’s a few seconds pause while they stay like that, breathing deeply and simply taking in the other’s presence. But then the watching crowd erupts in claps and cheers, and it drags them back to their reality. 

They both stand up, and almost out of instinct pull away from each other. But there’s an unspoken agreement that passes between them, and instead they tighten their grip. 

_I’m not done with you yet._

Byleth puts her arms around Edelgard, and she copies the motion as she leans onto her, head resting against the taller woman’s neck. 

As if on cue the band begins to play a slower piece, and they both begin to rock gently back and forth, swaying on the spot. 

There’s whispers and hoots among the audience, but nobody interrupts them, and the music lulls both women into a rhythmic slow dance. 

Closing her eyes, Byleth sinks into Edelgard’s embrace. They stay together in that spot, neither wishing to continue the circuit. _It’s fine_ , Byleth thinks. _We can just stay like this forever, dancing gently in each other’s arms._

And they’re so close, teetering on the edge of the line that both had been too scared to cross. 

There’s so much Byleth wants to tell her, _has_ to tell her. She lowers her head, willing the words to come forth and not fail her. 

But she can’t. 

Because what there is to say goes beyond words. 

Her own voice is soft, hesitant. Almost scared. 

“Edelgard, I…”

 _…Trust you…_

In light of everything that had happened, it felt strange to admit that Byleth explicitly _trusts_ the Adrestian Emperor. It wasn’t so much that she didn’t have any reason to, but rather that she had plenty of reasons _not_ to. 

Edelgard had betrayed her, attacking the professor and her students at the Holy Tomb. She had started a war against the institution that harbored her, forcing Byleth - it was easier to tell herself that the decision had been forced - to engage her on the battlefield. And most recently, she had attacked her again, wounding Byleth and taking her prisoner. Even if it was as a well-treated one. 

And yet Byleth couldn’t help but trust her. She had witnessed Edelgard’s guilt, her desire to mend the bond between them, how much she now trusted her in turn. They had grown closer, opening up to the other, becoming affectionate even. 

If there was anyone Byleth could now trust without hesitation, it was Edelgard. 

_…Need you…_

During their days at the academy, the then imperial princess had made it clear just how much she relied on Byleth, as an instructor, a confidant, and a mentor. It had been a fairly one-sided relationship at the time; the former Ashen Demon hadn’t grown into her own emotions until the months before her students were set to graduate. 

Before the Flame Emperor attacked. 

Their relationship had become so immensely complicated; from student and teacher, to reluctant enemies, to emperor and war prisoner, to friends, and now… 

Regardless of what they were anymore, Byleth had come to the realization that she needed Edelgard as much as the other woman needed her. The warmth of her smile, the mirth of her laughter, the softness of her touch - she couldn’t imagine life without it anymore. Without her. 

_…Want you…_

Desire wasn’t something that came naturally to Byleth. The dulled humanity of the Ashen Demon hadn’t allowed for much in the way of physical and emotional bonds with others. She was still vaguely human enough to experience the occasional _stirring_ or general desire for intimacy, but she had no means or ability to act on it, and it would always fade back to the non-existent void where the rest of her lived. 

But now she found herself in a situation where she couldn’t get enough. And it was all Edelgard’s fault. She had lit a fire in her heart that Byleth was incapable of extinguishing. 

Every time the younger woman touched her, held her hand, hugged her, pulled her close to whisper something in her ear… it only stoked the flames, threatening to turn it into a raging inferno. And Byleth wanted more. 

She _craved_ more. 

“My teacher.”

Edelgard’s voice calls to her, and Byleth opens her eyes to see they are mere inches apart. Her violet gaze pierces into the professor’s green, almost to what she imagines might be her soul. 

_If I even have one._

She can see, reflected in the purple hues, the very same thoughts and emotions that echoed for her. Byleth can make out the trust, the need, the _want_. 

The emperor’s mouth opens slightly, 

And then Byleth’s lips eclipse hers. 

—

The kiss is sloppy and uncoordinated, born from a distinct lack of experience. And yet Edelgard doesn’t seem to mind as she presses back, her mouth softer than Byleth could ever imagine. Leaning into it, Byleth tries to pour her passion and _desire_ into the moment, not wanting to suggest for even a second that the gesture wasn’t wholly sincere. 

Not one to be outdone, Edelgard pushes against her with a ferocity Byleth hadn’t expected. It’s so strong that the professor almost stumbles backwards, the thought causing her to giggle inwardly. The idea of being defeated by Edelgard’s lips… didn’t actually sound that bad. 

And the taste. There wasn’t a word to describe how the kiss tasted except for like _Edelgard_. 

Byleth doesn’t want to let go. She doesn’t want to give this up, because once she does, they’ll have to confront each other, and she’d much rather just stay locked around Edelgard for as long as she can.

She’s vaguely aware that every eye in the room is on them, that every pair of eyes in the Empire might as well be watching. But she doesn’t care. They might as well not even exist.

Eventually she does pull away, leaving a sliver of space between them. Edelgard’s face is both flushed and red, and her eyes are violet focused, almost sparkling in the light. 

“We haven’t exactly been honest with each other, have we?” Edelgard asks in whispers between their lips. 

“No, we haven’t,” Byleth agrees as she begins to rub circles on the small of Edelgard’s back, fingers softened by the silk of her dress. “I’ve wanted to be, but…” she admits, and Edelgard nods in understanding. 

“It’s terrifying, isn’t it?” 

_Goddess, it really is._ Byleth finds that her legs are shaking slightly, and can feel the trembling of Edelgard’s arms pressed against her back. 

“I think… I think we need to talk. About us, I mean.” Edelgard almost stumbles over the words, as if she can’t believe she’s saying them herself. She glances around them, face growing red. “But not here.” 

_No, not in front of everyone._

“I’d like that.” 

_Because there’s so much I need to tell you._

Edelgard pulls back, giving Byleth’s hands a nervous squeeze. She’s sure that the people watching them have reacted in some way, that she was hearing something - anger, cheers, confusion - but is so focused on the woman in front of her that it’s all tuned out. 

“My teacher… let’s get out of here,” Edelgard suggests. 

Byleth couldn’t agree more. 

With that, Edelgard’s hand is on her wrist, and Byleth allows herself to be pulled along, making their way past the crowd as it parts before them. 

Right before they flee the ballroom, Byleth sees the reactions of her friends; Ferdinand’s smile tinged with second-hand sheepishness, Dorothea with both hands to her mouth, stifling an apparent shriek of excitement, and Hubert, who was simply being, well, Hubert. 

And the ghost of that kiss is still soft on Byleth’s lips. 

It’s almost enough to satisfy her. 

Almost. 

—

The two find themselves in that favorite garden of Byleth’s - the one she had started to think of as _theirs_ \- together while the stars come to life overhead. The pale moonlight cascades onto Edelgard, causing her hair to appear aflame with silver fire. 

She’s silent as she gazes up at the night sky, back turned to Byleth. The quiet atmosphere isn’t uncomfortable, as both have a lot on their mind. 

Though really, Byleth just wants to kiss Edelgard again. 

Eventually the emperor does turn around, and her furrowed eyebrows and tense expression aren’t what Byleth expected. 

Nor is what she says next. 

“You’re a fool, Byleth Eisner.” Her voice is raised in that familiar way she does when lecturing her professor; the words are quiet, but softer than the tone suggests. 

“You’re a fool,” she repeats, “because only a fool would kiss the woman holding them hostage.” 

_She’s right_ , Byleth thinks, and she almost wants to laugh. Even now, Edelgard can’t help but chastise her. _I am a fool._

“I have no regrets,” she says simply and truthfully. “Do you?” 

Edelgard’s face contorts into an expression of mild guilt. “No,” she replies without hesitation. “I have no regrets either. In fact…” Raising a hand to her lips, she smiles faintly. “I’m rather elated.” 

_You have a funny way of showing it._ But Byleth wasn’t upset, because Edelgard’s sometimes too serious nature was something she adored about her. It reminds her of why she chose to lead the Black Eagles, all those years ago. 

She had been impressed by Dimitri’s kindness and humility, and enjoyed Claude’s jokes and easy-going nature. Choosing between the two of them would have been difficult. 

But Edelgard had been different. Blunt, opinionated, and competitive. She had spoken to Byleth about her desire for the mercenary’s strength, her high expectations if she chose to be her teacher, and the personal ambitions she would fight for. There had been a fiery passion in her speech that stood out to Byleth, capturing her attention in the ways that Dimitri’s empty eyes and Claude’s false smile had driven her away. 

And she saw that fire and passion now, reflected in the light of her lilac pupils, low burning in the evening darkness. 

But there was something else that burned there too. 

“Yet you are still a fool Byleth, because I hold power over you.” Edelgard steps forward, cupping a hand to the professor’s cheek, sighing heavily. “How do you know I haven’t manipulated you into feeling this way?” 

“I trust you,” Byleth says immediately. “You wouldn’t do anything like that.” 

Edelgard laughs, though the sound is false. “Ignoring the fact that I _have_ manipulated you in the past… you’re missing the point.” 

“I tend to do that a lot.” 

Now Edelgard’s laugh is more genuine. “For someone so intelligent, it always astounds me how dense you can be.” She reaches forward, asking for Byleth’s hands with her own, who doesn’t hesitate for a second to reciprocate. “My teacher, I need to be honest with you, and I’d ask that you listen before responding.” A smile tugs at the edges of her mouth, but doesn’t go beyond that. 

Byleth just nods, respecting her request. 

When Edelgard speaks, her voice is low and quiet, reminiscent of that first night in Enbarr after their clash at the Goddess Tower. It’s oddly nostalgic. 

“For five long years, I had resigned myself to the knowledge that I was either responsible for your death, or I would find mine at the end of your sword.” Byleth’s old injury flares again at Edelgard’s words. “I never dreamed that we could possibly reconcile… that we could be close again…” 

_I didn’t either…_

“And then I found myself in a position where we had that chance. But our existing relationship had changed, and I was terrified that it would fall apart again.” She drops her head slightly, suddenly unwilling to look Byleth in the eyes. “So I clung to the only thing I had, which was my newfound authority over you… and I came to realize something unpleasant about myself.” 

Edelgard looks upset as she says that, her eyebrows furrowing as her mouth twists into a frown. But it’s directed inwards, not out; Byleth can see the self-loathing on her face, and in her subsequent words.

“Here is my truth to you, Professor… I enjoyed this. Having control over you, getting to keep you all to myself. And that’s what I hate the most, that I like this.” 

Byleth wants to stop her, to tell Edelgard that she was placing blame on the wrong thing, on conflicts that didn’t even exist. But she keeps silent out of her promise, and knowing that this needed to be said. 

“I took you as my captive, and yet I treated you like a friend. Like something _more_.” Her words rasp as they leave her throat. “And… I find myself asking, where does one start and the other end? Because sometimes I’m scared I can’t tell anymore.”

She shakes her head, still unable to look the other woman in the eyes. “And you can’t be with someone who perpetuates such an unequal relationship.” 

The two stare at each other, Edelgard’s truth now out in the open. Byleth didn’t find most of it very shocking - she had always known that Edelgard enjoyed the reversal in their dynamic, and didn’t even blame her for it. But the knowledge of how much it hurt her was new, and it wounded Byleth to hear. Because… 

“Edelgard,” she eventually says, and the other woman lifts her head up to meet her gaze. “I… I have a truth I need to share with you as well. Will you listen to me?” And she nods, despite her pained expression. 

“…Those two weeks I spent waiting for your army to arrive at Garreg Mach, all those years ago… those were the worst days of my life. I was so confused and angry and scared…” 

The pain deepens. 

“And I missed you,” Byleth whispers out in a hushed breath. “I missed you so much.” 

She can feel the hands on hers tighten, urging her to continue. 

“I was almost glad,” Byleth says as a hollow laugh almost passes through her teeth, which she forces back down her throat with a swallow. “Almost _happy_ to be taken as your prisoner, because it meant I might have another chance.” 

“Byleth…” Edelgard appears wounded by the admission. “Please don’t glorify what I did… how I hurt you.” 

But Byleth shakes her head. She was never upset with her over what happened, how things had gone. All that had mattered to her was that she and Edelgard were no longer enemies. That they could become friends again. _That we could maybe be something more…_

“If this is what it takes to hold us together… I’ll stay your prisoner. Even after this war ends… I’ll stay yours.” 

Edelgard exhales sharply, the noise almost coming out like a hiss. 

“Don't you dare.” Her irises are fire, burning with unbridled passion. “Don’t you dare say that.” A hand makes its way to the back of Byleth’s head, gently pushing her up so they are looking directly at each other. “You deserve better than to live at the whims of someone as selfish as me.” 

“You aren’t selfish Edelgard, not in the way you think you are.” 

It’s made immediately clear that she vehemently disagrees with Byleth’s statement, and now it’s Edelgard that has to force back a false laugh.

“But I am. I’m so incredibly selfish, because despite all this, even after how much I’ve hurt you, how much I continue to hurt you… I can’t help but want you.”

Byleth tries to shore up her own thoughts, to tell Edelgard just how wrong she is, that she hasn’t hurt her. But once again, words fail her. 

_That’s fine though. I have a new solution._

And she presses her lips against Edelgard’s again. 

Their second kiss is quicker than the first, but no less impactful. For a brief second Edelgard almost pulls away, but quickly gives in, putting her arms around Byleth’s neck as she leans into it. When they part, both rest their heads against the other, noses touching. 

“In case you haven’t noticed, I can be rather selfish too.” Byleth almost giggles at the admission. 

“Byleth…” 

“Edelgard, I want you too. I understand things between us are… complicated… but that doesn’t change how I feel. And I don’t want to hide those feelings anymore.” 

“I…” And Edelgard’s voice falters as she tightens her grip around Byleth’s neck, holding her closer. She nestles her head against the professor’s shoulders, practically nuzzling her as she speaks. “This is why you are such a fool, my teacher.” 

That is enough to make Byleth laugh, and she affectionately pats the back of Edelgard’s head. “You keep calling me that, but I can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing.” 

Edelgard’s voice comes out muffled, so she raises her head to look at Byleth directly. “It’s neither. It’s just… _you_.” 

“Hmmmm.” Byleth finds that she likes that answer. It feels good to be understood. “I take back what I said; you can be rather selfish sometimes…. but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.” She sees Edelgard’s confused expression, so she clarifies. “Everybody has something that they want, a desire. Sometimes those conflict with that of others… but sometimes they align perfectly.” 

_Sometimes it’s the exact same thing._

“And when it comes to you and me…” Byleth leans forward, whispering in Edelgard’s ear. “I think we’ve just been holding back.” 

Edelgard’s violet eyes flit sideways, trying to meet Byleth’s. A wide range of emotions express themselves across her face, but eventually she settles on something Byleth recognizes; longing. 

“Would you…” Edelgard asks almost nervously, “Would you like to see just how selfish I can be?” 

Byleth’s response is simple. 

“Goddess yes.” 

—

In steps that neither of them could accurately recall, Byleth sits on the garden bench while Edelgard straddles her lap, arms around her neck. 

And Edelgard pushes herself forward, claiming Byleth’s mouth. This time the kiss is stronger, less desperate. Byleth melts into it, letting herself be guided through gentle paces as they squeeze against each other.

It takes everything Byleth is not to fall into pieces, to _surrender_ herself completely. But she fights it, because that would have been too easy. And so in the last few moments of that kiss, Byleth attempts to capture Edelgard for herself, to give the other woman a challenge for the first time in this unorthodox relationship of theirs. 

The kiss is their battlefield and yearning is their weapon. 

She’s outmatched, but somehow it doesn’t bother her. 

In the second before they part, Edelgard gently bites down on Byleth’s lower lip, and the action is enough to cause the professor to let out a small and uncharacteristic moan. And when she looks back at the emperor, Edelgard’s wild grin is tinged with the hints of a smirk. 

If this had been a battle, then Edelgard had somehow turned the tables on her and won.

“Looks like I lost,” Byleth says with a slight chuckle. 

Edelgard hums with approval, a rogue hand running up and down the other woman’s hair. “Well,” she tells Byleth with a smugness she doesn’t even bother to hide, “It was only a matter of time.” 

They stay like that for a while longer, content to appraise the other with their warm gazes. 

“So,” Byleth eventually mutters, her own breath still almost taken away, “what does this make us now?” 

Leaning forward, Edelgard places a hand on the side of her face, gently caressing Byleth’s still blushing cheek. Her eyes are soft, her expression matching. 

“What we should be. Equals.” 

“ _Equals_.” The word is strange on Byleth’s own lips as she repeats it aloud. But it sounds right, almost meant to be. “I want that.” 

“We both have some adjusting to do,” Edelgard says quietly, shifting her weight on Byleth’s lap. “It won’t be easy.” 

“Nothing worth fighting for ever is,” Byleth tells her, coming out more like a lesson than she intended. But Edelgard smiles, nodding in agreement. 

“If that’s the case… then I have one last request from you, Byleth.” 

The answer was easy. “Anything.” 

“When it’s just the two of us… would you call me El?” The emperor rubs the top of her arm with a slightly anxious energy. “My family used to call me that, and well… there’s no one left who can anymore.” 

With a precise motion, Byleth takes a hand and uses it to bring Edelgard’s head closer to hers. Their lips brush again, and in the space between them, she whispers to her. 

“El.” 

The name is as beautiful as the woman it belongs to, she thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how most first kisses are safe and chaste? 
> 
> I reject that. Byleth and El _want_ each other. 
> 
> (Also obligatory "El" moment, which is basically required in most Edeleth fics) 
> 
> I can't believe we've reached this point; after 15 chapters of slow burn, throwing a match in the kindling... well, it's been a long time coming. 
> 
> Part of me was worried that they moved a little too fast this chapter, but considering how utterly messy their situation is... could there be any other way? 
> 
> Next chapter will focus on tying up those loose ends I didn't address in this one, mainly the technical details between their relationship (Byleth still has her own convictions, so this won't just be Crimson Flower 2.0). Thank you for sticking with me for so long! 
> 
> As always, thank you to everyone. I love all of you, and I hope you are staying safe.


	16. Guiding Starlight

Byleth has completely lost track of how long they’ve been kissing for. 

“El…” 

She whispers the name between their lips as they separate, in one of the moments both need to come up for air. The woman in question hums with approval. 

“El…” 

Byleth really can’t stop saying it, wants to keep saying it, as if it existed as some sort of proclamation for feelings long held back and only now seeing daylight for the first time. Or starlight, as was the case for them. 

“El…”

Now Edelgard pulls back, looking at Byleth with something of a mixed expression of amusement and self-consciousness. 

“Byleth, you’ll wear it out if you keep saying it like that.” But she hardly seems upset. 

“I could never,” Byleth responds easily, pressing her cheek to Edelgard’s, nuzzling the side of her face. “I’ll never get tired of something so wonderful.” 

Somehow that was enough to fluster the emperor, who turns a happy shade of red. “I… I swear you always know exactly what to say, my teacher.” 

“Hmmmm.” Byleth agrees with that. But she also felt that the best things sometimes weren’t conveyed with words. “Enough talking though.” And then she goes for Edelgard’s lips again. 

—

Eventually it’s decided - somewhat reluctantly - that they can’t spend the whole night kissing, and the two pull apart. Edelgard settles for laying across the bench with her head resting on Byleth’s lap. 

“So…what does this make us?” Byleth asks as she plays with the emperor’s hair, letting the strands run through her fingers. 

Edelgard reaches up and gently touches part of the professor’s face. “I already told you. We’re equals.” 

“No, I mean… what about _us_?” Byleth tries to emphasize the last part as best she can. The entire situation was all so new to her, and she risked being overwhelmed unless some part of it could be narrowed down and defined. 

“Oh…” Edelgard is quiet for a moment while she thinks it over. “I suppose this means we’re courting now.” She somehow manages to blush at her own words. 

“Courting…” The word causes Byleth to break out in a sly grin. “I’ve never courted anyone before.” 

_I didn’t even know I could._ For so long she had assumed that the weight of the Ashen Demon’s existence prevented her from feeling the things that normal humans felt, romance being one of them. 

Luckily it seemed Edelgard was always willing to be an exception to one of her preconceived rules. 

“Well, it’s not like I have either,” Edelgard admits. “I guess we’ll have to figure it out together.” 

That sounded utterly fantastic to Byleth. They had spent so long teaching each other lessons both big and small, and now the idea of learning something together… it felt amazingly appropriate. Perfect for what they were now. _Equals._

Moonlight reflects off Edelgard’s hair, and for a moment Byleth is stunned by the enormity of it all. To trace it back to its source, that decision more than five years ago when she had stepped in front of an axe to save her, and the chain of consequences it had unleashed. 

“Where do I go from here?” she asks herself, only realizing at the end that she had said it aloud. 

The emperor’s initial response is a low hum, and she pulls herself upright, sitting on Byleth’s lap. 

“I can’t speak for you, my teacher, but…” She flashes a smile towards Byleth. “I want you to decide for yourself. After all, you are a free woman.” 

_Free_. It was a strange concept to Byleth, who had become so accustomed to living on Edelgard’s schedule and at her whims. Strangest of all was that it felt like nothing had changed at all; the idea of leaving Enbarr, of leaving Edelgard was laughable. They had just found each other again, this time with complete and utter honesty. _How could I give any of this up?_

But she decides to test the waters a little. “And what if I decide I want to return to the Church?” Byleth says this with as much levity as she can, not wanting to suggest it was a serious consideration. 

“Then I would support that decision,” Edelgard replies with complete seriousness in her voice. “It would be cruel of me to claim I care for you, and then continue to keep you imprisoned.” But she allows some humor to drip into her speech. “Though it would break my heart…” 

“Goddess, you always were the world’s worst captor,” Byleth says as she laughs. She runs a hand across Edelgard’s face, outlining the shape of her lips. “As if I could walk away from you.” 

“Nor could I.” Edelgard puts her arms back around Byleth, drawing herself closer. “I’m still a little in awe, if I’m being honest. I’ve wanted this… wanted you for so long, and now, against all odds, it’s real.” 

“How long?” Byleth asks, very curious. 

The question causes Edelgard’s blush to return. “Let’s just say for longer than would be considered appropriate…” 

“You mean…” The opportunity to tease the emperor presents itself, and Byleth seizes it. “You mean to say that princess Edelgard von Hresvelg, the heir to the Adrestian Empire, had a schoolgirl crush on her teacher?” 

“I…” Edelgard pouts slightly at the - very true - accusation. “Could you blame me?” 

Tilting her head, Byleth does her best to appear innocently confused. “You’ll have to explain.” 

Edelgard is quiet for a moment, pursing her lips tightly in contemplation. When she finally speaks, she does her best to look everywhere but directly in Byleth’s eyes. 

“Don’t you dare laugh at this… but I always found your mercenary outfit quite distracting…” 

“Which part?” Because all Byleth can think of is that _most_ of it was revealing at best, outright indecent at worst. 

Choosing not to respond, Edelgard’s face grows bright red as she sticks to silence. But her eyes briefly flash towards Byleth’s chest, which is all the answer she needs. 

“Hmmmm,” Byleth hums knowingly. But she can’t resist teasing her over this admitted weakness. “So all those times I leaned over your desk to help with an exam question…” 

Edelgard buries her face in the teacher’s shoulder, her retort an apparently muffled scream. 

—

“Byleth, you know I like you for more than just that, right?” 

“For what?” Byleth asks, still holding Edelgard as she sits on her lap. They had been stargazing for a while now, with Edelgard pointing out the real stars and constellations she could make out, while Byleth occasionally names them with the false titles her father had told her. 

She looks at the other woman with some uncharacteristic sense of trepidation. “You know, what I said earlier…” 

“Oh, you mean my body?” 

Again, Edelgard buries her face in Byleth’s shoulder, groaning loudly in response. Her voice comes out just barely enough for the professor to hear it. “I’m never going to be able to look you in the eyes if you keep saying things like that so easily.” 

“That’s alright. I’ve got plenty of other places you can look at.” 

Tightening her grip on Byleth, Edelgard carefully rolls her head so one violet eye is glaring up at her. “Perhaps it was foolish of me to expect you to tease me less now that we’re together.” 

“You’re right,” Byleth confirms. “It was foolish of you to think that.” But she takes a hand and pats the top of Edelgard’s head. “Though I do understand what you’re saying. You’ve made it very clear just how much you value me as a friend and mentor.” 

“Good,” Edelgard hums contently. “I don’t want you getting the wrong idea, after all.” 

Byleth laughs, kissing the emperor on the top of her head. “As if I could misunderstand what we mean to each other.” Then she leans forward, playfully whispering in Edelgard’s ear. “However, I don’t mind if you just want me for my body.” 

The only reaction she can see is informed by Edelgard’s neck and ears practically catching on fire. Grumbling, she gently pinches Byleth’s side, causing her to yelp out slightly. “Sometimes… you’re just too much, my teacher.” 

There’s nothing about that Byleth disagrees with. “Oh, I know.” 

“Now that I’m not in charge of you anymore, I’m going to have to find new ways to get you to behave.” 

“Well, you’ve always enjoyed a challenge, Your Majesty.” Byleth grins, despite Edelgard not being able to see it from where she was still burying her face onto her. “I hope it’s worth it.” 

“Of course it is.” Edelgard pulls her head back and gives Byleth a quick kiss, not settling for anywhere but her lips. “It’s you.” 

—

“So much for no more kissing, huh?” 

“Oh hush, Byleth.” 

—

They’ve completely lost track of time by that point. The wing of the palace where the garden was situated was far removed from the ballroom and generally not heavily trafficked, so they were able to enjoy the evening without any interruption. 

Their activities cycle; talking of matters both great and small, laughing at each other’s jokes or teasing comments, kissing again, or just sitting quietly in grateful silence. But they always come back to the kiss. 

_It’s almost as if we are making up for lost time,_ Byleth thinks. Per Edelgard’s admission, her initial attraction had started early on, before presumably blooming into something more over time. But it was harder for Byleth to pinpoint it for herself. All she knew was that at some point, those feelings she carried for the emperor had changed into a concept far stronger, more difficult to narrow down. 

Was it those sleepless nights when Edelgard’s past haunted her nightmares, and Byleth was the one she could turn to? 

Was it the revelation at the Holy Tomb, when they had thought the other lost forever?

Was it at the Goddess Tower, when both had stayed their hand from delivering a fatal blow?

Or was it every moment before, after, and in between?

 _It wouldn’t be wrong to think we’ve waited years for this._ And the scariest part for her was that they had come so close to never having it at all. 

The idea of losing Edelgard again was so terrifying that Byleth reaches over and puts her arms around her, pulling them closer together. Edelgard doesn’t say anything in response; she just reciprocates the gesture so the two are holding each other. 

Byleth sinks into it. 

—

“Hey, El…” 

“Yes Byleth?” 

“Does this… does this make me your concubine?” 

“…. Excuse me…?” 

“Well, you know, if I’m courting an emperor…” 

“What the- no, Byleth! That’s not how that works at all!” 

“Oh.” 

“…Why would you think something like that?” 

“I wanted to know if I could order Hubert around.” 

“I… I don’t know why I expected anything different. No, you cannot give Hubert orders. I’m fairly certain that would end very poorly.” 

“Oh.” 

“…” 

“…” 

“Byleth?” 

“Yes El?” 

“If it’s okay with you… I’d rather think of you as my partner. We’ve been through so much together, and other words just don’t seem adequate…it just sounds right.” 

“…Partner… I like that.” 

“I’m quite glad that you do.” 

“You’re my partner El… and I’m yours.” 

“Yes Byleth. You’re all mine.” 

“El…” 

“… I know. I’m yours too, my teacher.” 

—

The taste of Edelgard’s mouth and lips was becoming a familiar sensation to Byleth, though she easily suspects she’ll never grow tired of it. 

It was a learning experience for both of them, and Byleth was happy to be both the teacher and the student in this. And she was already learning plenty. 

Edelgard was _competitive_. Every time Byleth tried to surprise her, to turn the tables and gain the upper hand, the emperor was more than eager to reciprocate in kind, and she found it required almost all her focus just to avoid being pulled into Edelgard’s rhythm and under her spell. 

However, Byleth had no qualms about giving the other woman a fight. She had never been one to submit to authority - the last few months notwithstanding - and just because Edelgard was the most powerful person on the continent didn’t mean that Byleth would so easily give in to her. 

Despite how lovely that sounded. 

“Hey,” Byleth breathlessly says at one point when they part to recharge. 

The greeting is so casual that Edelgard bursts out into giggles. “Hey yourself, Professor.” 

“You still call me that,” Byleth observes. “Teacher too.” 

Edelgard nods, cheeks flushing slightly. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop, if I’m being honest. It’s just so ingrained within me.” 

“I don’t mind. It’s cute, like you, Your Majesty.” Byleth figures that she might as well return the favor, even if it was just teasingly. 

“You’re lucky I let you get away with this, Byleth. Anyone else wouldn’t be so fortunate.” 

“Hmmmm.” Byleth’s grin turns mischievous, and she realizes just how easy it was to tease Edelgard, especially since she was unwilling to really push back against her for it. “I bet you’d let me get away with anything, wouldn’t you? I could sit on the throne and claim to be the new emperor, and you’d probably not punish me for it.” 

Edelgard’s eyes narrow, though not unkindly. “Tread carefully Professor. I have an obligation to defend my authority, even from you.” 

“How so?” 

With a smirk of her own, Edelgard reaches forward and rests a hand on the side of Byleth’s face. “Well, I imagine I’d have to keep you silent, my Byleth.” 

“Oh? And just how would you silence me, I wonder…” 

Leaning closer, Edelgard runs her hand carefully over Byleth’s cheek, caressing it. “Maybe like this.” And she moves the hand to the other woman’s chin, tilts her head, then claims Byleth’s mouth again with a kiss. 

—

“El, are you… are you blushing from your own flirting?” 

“What? Don’t be absurd…” 

“But I can see how red your face is every time you say something.” 

“I assure you, that’s not it!” 

“But I can see it…” 

“Well, now you can’t.” 

“Covering my eyes doesn’t make me unsee it, you know.” 

“… You are so insufferable sometimes, my teacher…”

“Do you hate it?” 

“No… I adore it, in fact.” 

“Oh. You’re blushing again.” 

“… Don’t push your luck Byleth.” 

—

At some point the two decide to move from the bench and sit against a cherry blossom tree that grew in the corner of the garden. The location still provided a good view of the stars, and so they settle comfortably underneath it, leaning against each other. 

“Do you see that one there?” Edelgard points out a specific star distant in the night sky. It would have been impossible to miss, as it shone brighter than anything else. Byleth reaches out and entwines her hand with the emperor’s, giving it a squeeze as confirmation. Smiling at the gesture, Edelgard continues. “That’s called Sirius, or the Great Blue Star. Named as such because… well, you can see why for yourself.” 

“Does it have any special meaning for you?” Byleth asks. 

“In a manner of speaking,” Edelgard admits. “It…” She rubs the back of her head somewhat abashedly with her free hand, while the other continues to hold Byleth’s. “It reminds me of you.” 

That wasn’t what she expected to hear. “Me?” 

“The star… it’s so radiant and luminous, lighting up everything around it, even from a distance. Sometimes seeming… almost within reach.” Edelgard smiles faintly, as if it were painful in some small manner. 

“But I’m not…” 

Taking her hand, Edelgard runs it through the green locks of Byleth’s hair, illuminated eerily in the cosmic light. “Ah, but you are. At least to me.” She scoffs at herself, almost a laugh. “Stars have served as guides for as long as there have been people. The Great Blue Star can be used as a compass, since it always points north. So long as someone can see the night sky, they aren’t truly lost.” 

“And that reminds you of me?” 

Edelgard chuckles at the question, nodding. “It does, my teacher. Like Sirius, you’ve been somewhat of a guide for me, helping to pull me out of the darkness when I feel as though I’ve lost my way.” 

“Even though I’ve been gone for so long?” Byleth argues this with something of a frown. She doesn’t feel as if she deserves such praise.

“Even then…” Edelgard gives Byleth’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Because after all those years… you came back to me, Byleth.” 

Byleth can’t help but laugh slightly. “El, I came back as your enemy.” 

“Yet…” Edelgard doesn’t appear convinced. “If I recall, you refused to even defend yourself against me.” 

“…I didn’t want to hurt you. Not again.”

“I never wanted to either.” Edelgard seems introspective as she gazes up at the sky, honing in on the bright and distant blue star. “For years I lived with the self-inflicted dichotomy that people were either my allies or my enemies. In a way, that attitude is a darkness all of its own. It blinded me… and ultimately led to me forcing that ideal upon you, injuring you in the process.” 

“But you don’t believe that’s true anymore.” Byleth had confirmed as much on the day she had asked Edelgard to the ball. Maybe even earlier, when they had come to trust each other again. 

Edelgard nods, smiling faintly towards her. “You managed to guide me away from that mentality. I told myself for so long that in order to accomplish my goals I would need to harden my heart, becoming a ruthless emperor… and I almost lost myself in that.” 

“El…” 

“You’ve done so much for me…” Reaching forward, Edelgard places a hand behind Byleth’s head, and the professor allows herself to be gently drawn closer. “You taught me that it’s not a weakness to open my heart, to let others in.” Swiftly, she plants a kiss on Byleth’s lips before pulling back, grinning so sincerely. “Thank you, Byleth… my teacher, my partner… my guiding starlight.” 

And it’s all Byleth can do to return the kiss, to tell Edelgard just how much she means to her in return. 

She has the words to explain it. 

But those can always come later. 

—

“Do you have a star, El?” 

For a brief moment Edelgard exhales in apparent amusement. “No Professor, I don’t have a metaphorical star. That would be rather presumptuous of me, wouldn’t it?” 

“Oh.” Byleth supposes it would be, but if there was anyone that shone as brightly as a celestial body, it was Edelgard. “You should have one though.” She searches for a moment before pointing a finger upwards. “There! Do you see that red one, near Sirius? That’s now the Edelgard Star.” 

The human Edelgard bursts into giggles. “Byleth, I’m pretty sure that one already has a name.” 

She shrugs dismissively. “So? It can’t be as good as being named after you.” 

“Okay, but why that one?” 

Byleth smiles, pulling herself a little closer to Edelgard. “Because it’s red, just like you.” 

“…Because I’m red? Don’t tell me you just reduced my entire identity down to _wearing red_.” 

“You look good in red, El.” 

There’s a manner of suspicion in Edelgard’s expression and on her words when she responds, as if in slight doubt of Byleth’s intentions. “I do, yes. But there’s more to me than just the fact that I like to wear a specific color.” 

“True,” Byleth admits. “You’re also good with an axe.” 

If there was a way for Edelgard’s eyes to narrow even further than they already were, she was certainly trying her hardest to make it happen. “So,” she complains after a few moments, “apparently Edelgard von Hresvelg can be summed up with _red_ and _axe_.” 

“Don’t forget a damn good kisser.” 

Now the emperor’s face is as crimson as the dresses she likes to wear. “You know,” Edelgard tells Byleth in that playfully warning voice of hers that approximated a commanding tone. “I think I liked you better as my prisoner. At least then you pretended to be somewhat less of a tease.” 

“You knew what you were getting into,” Byleth grins at her. “And I seem to recall you mentioning that you ‘adore it’, yes?” 

“Byleth, I adore _you_ , teasing and all.” But the smile returns to Edelgard’s face, though Byleth suspects it never really left at all. “You’ve always been the only person brave enough to behave towards me that way. Even before everything… you treated me as an equal before we were equals.” 

It had been easy to adjust to life in the monastery for Byleth, as she had never cared much for social status to begin with. That her students insisted on being treated without reverence for their noble heritage only made that easier, and she had been happy to oblige. 

“I mean, you did tell me to act towards you as I would anyone else.”

But Edelgard’s smile and the tiny twist of her head tells a different story. “You misunderstand, my teacher. It was never that I worried you couldn’t stand shoulder to shoulder with me, but that I couldn’t stand like that alongside you.” 

“El, I was never really that special.” 

“Perhaps I did idolize you a bit early on, but I do think the respect I hold for you was earned. You saved my life, remember? Not only that, but you were an excellent teacher, and an even better friend.” Seemingly coming to the same idea at the same time, both Byleth and Edelgard reach for each other’s hands, entwining them together. It felt just as good as kissing her, Byleth thinks. 

“And you were a wonderful student, as well as the best friend I’ve ever had.” Something crosses Byleth’s mind, and she laughs aloud. “But you were always a terrible enemy.” 

Returning the laugh, Edelgard grips Byleth’s hand tightly, as if in reassurance. “We were pretty awful at all that, weren’t we?” 

“It’s going to be really awkward if we ever fight again, because I’ll still want to kiss you.” Byleth finds her own remark extraordinarily funny, and has to contain her laughter, lest she appear pleased with the notion. 

Fortunately, Edelgard also finds the idea amusing. “I’d probably feel the same way. You’re not half bad at it yourself,” she teases. 

“Not half bad?” Byleth feigns hurt outrage at the less than stellar review. “And after I called you ‘damn good’?” 

Edelgard’s response is to push ahead, softly brushing her lips against Byleth’s before striking forward with a kiss, capturing Byleth’s mouth for herself. The action elicits a small grunt of approval from her partner, who tries to show just how much she underestimated her. 

After a little while, Edelgard admits that Byleth is pretty damn good as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally this was supposed to be about the personal and political repercussions to Byleth's decision back at the ball...
> 
> But apparently I have no self-control, so this chapter is entirely Byleth and El making out while defining their relationship and themselves. 
> 
> Next chapter will get into the plot stuff (but still be fluffy). 
> 
> Thank you again to everyone for sticking with me for so long, and watching these two gay idiots fall for each other.


	17. Interlude: The Archbishop

Faerghus is a frigid hellhole, Rhea thinks to herself. 

She misses the springs and summers of Garreg Mach, and curses Loog for deciding to launch his rebellion from a capital that froze over more than half the year round. At least the founders of Enbarr had the sense to build it somewhere temperate. 

But now Enbarr was an apostate city, held and dominated by a heretic. Even just thinking about it, about _her_ , causes Rhea to grind her teeth and see red as her head begins to pound, and so she forces herself to change that line of thinking. Losing herself to rage was something she had found rather unproductive. 

Or at least Seteth keeps insisting it is. 

Still… for what Faerghus lacked in temperature, it made up for with a certain warmth of spirit. The people here were truly the most devout in Fódlan, and despite the challenges the Church currently faced, their faith never wavered. 

When Mother returns, Rhea knows that their piety will be rewarded. She’s counting on it, because otherwise she can’t imagine that her lies will ever be forgiven. 

It will all be worth it, she tells herself. 

Not for the first time that day, her thoughts drift to the professor. She had been unable to save her all those years ago, and that sacrifice still weighs heavily. Despite that, she believes that Byleth isn’t truly gone - the blood of ancient Nabatea flows through her veins, and it elevated her beyond the simple shackles of her humanity. 

“Lady Rhea.” 

Catherine bows as she enters the office, and Rhea can’t help but smile. At least some people were still loyal in this age of betrayal. 

“Good morning Catherine. You seem in fine spirits today.” 

The warrior’s grin is enough of a confirmation. “Shamir has returned, Your Grace.” 

It doesn’t take much deduction for her to realize the meaning behind the progeny of Charon’s smile. Rhea had always surmised that the two were closer than either cared to admit, and she found it endearing in that way only humans could be.

“Please, send her to me when she’s settled. I’d like to receive her report in person.” 

While waiting, Rhea takes time to prepare for the day. There’s a pile of paperwork so large it almost seems more intimidating than the war itself, and she begins to flip through it with a sense of trepidation. Mostly requests for official visits, including one from someone she recognizes as a former student of the officers academy. 

“An orphanage, huh?” 

She puts the request on Seteth’s desk; he’s always had a better mind for this sort of thing. If he thinks it’s a good idea, he’ll approve it. 

The next paper is a list of names, and Rhea adds her signature to a line at the bottom without hesitation. There wasn’t any reason to inquire further, as she was the one who compiled the list to begin with. This paper stays on her desk however - she knows her brother is a little squeamish when it comes to drawing up execution orders. 

Before she can continue there’s a knock on the door and a moment later Shamir enters, not having heard a response against the action. She doesn’t bow to Rhea like most of the faithful do, but simply extends an arm across her chest in an old mercenaries salute. 

“Shamir, it’s wonderful to see you,” Rhea greets her, and is surprised by how much she means it. As grateful as she can be for the loyalty and support of the Fódlan people, it gets exhausting being constantly reminded of one’s own divinity. The Dagdan was different, and Rhea found it a pleasant change of pace. 

“Rhea,” Shamir returns, the respect echoing in her voice and not by a title. “I’m ready to deliver my findings.” 

Always so straight to the point. Motioning instead to a chair by a table, Rhea sits down. “Please Shamir, you’ve only just returned. No need to rush.” 

Nodding, the mercenary-knight joins her, and Rhea amusedly wonders if she took the request for a command. Not like it mattered; the Archbishop’s word was law. 

“Would you care for some tea?” But before Shamir can even answer, Rhea already sets to work heating a kettle on the table, sorting through a box of leaves in the meantime. She decides to take something sweet for herself today, and settles on a more bitter concoction for her guest. 

Shamir takes a careful sip, her eyes widening slightly as she takes in the flavor. “This tea is…” 

“A Dagdan blend, yes. I apologize if that was presumptuous of me.” 

She shrugs. “It’s fine. Thank you Rhea.” 

For a brief moment the Archbishop wonders what would happen if she asks Shamir to call her _Seiros_ instead. But when she imagines it, all she can picture is another noncommittal shrug and not much else. 

Probably for the best. 

Taking a sip of tea, Rhea prepares herself for another dull briefing, despite insisting on receiving all incoming information herself. Getting caught off guard by that traitor was a mistake she would never make again. 

“Now,” Rhea states after a few moments of silence. “I was told you had some important findings to report.” 

“Yes.” Shamir opens her travel bag and removes a sturdy wooden tube. Unscrewing the top, she reaches in and pulls out several scrolls, quickly skimming them in turn. She looks back up to Rhea before speaking. “The Professor is alive.” 

The only sound Rhea hears after that is porcelain shattering on the stone floor as she lets her teacup fall. 

“No, it can’t - Shamir… are you sure?” 

She doesn’t want to believe, as that belief would lead to hope, and hope would only end in despair. It always had, for years unending. 

Setting the papers down on the table, Shamir taps a few names that Rhea can’t see or make out. “I’ve had this information verified from multiple independent and reliable sources. If they are telling me that Byleth Eisner is alive, then she is well and truly alive.”

Rhea clutches at her head, the emotions threatening to overwhelm and pull her under like a rogue wave. She wants to grab the mercenary and hug her, find Seteth and celebrate with him like they used to in Zanado before the dark times, to set the whole damn city on fire just to have a place to let those feelings go. But she knows all of these are unbecoming of an archbishop, and so she just lets them build until finally she can feel the tears streaming down her face. 

“Mother,” she whispers under her breath. “You’ve returned to me.” 

At no point does Shamir appear uncomfortable with the display. She was, as always, a professional. 

“Where is she?” Rhea is almost terrified to ask, because if she wasn’t with Shamir… 

The Dagdan lets her dark purple eyes flit over hers, and there’s the faintest scrunch of her brow as she contemplates her answer. And in that hesitation, Rhea knows the response will break her. 

“She’s in the Empire.” 

Any further words are lost in a low drumming noise as the room recedes further and further away, straining the edges of Rhea’s vision. She’s alone again, clutching the discarded remains of a family member she can’t recognize, their bones cracked and blood drained completely dry. There’s a wailing in the distance, and she knows Cichol has found what was left of his twin sister. 

How much more will they take from her? 

Rhea reaches down and picks up a small piece of shattered porcelain, rolling it between her fingers until it pierces the skin, green blood dripping to the floor. The pain yanks her back to Fhirdiad, and she crushes the debris in her hand to dust. 

“So… that woman found her first.” Rhea can only imagine what it must have taken for the heretic emperor to capture the professor alive, how many legions of soldiers would have been cut down before an opening was found. Maybe she had even joined the fray herself, taking advantage of the weakened state that the long sleep brings. As always, cowardice was the tool of the sinful. “We never should have let them hold the monastery.” 

“My informants have confirmed that the professor is in Enbarr,” Shamir informs her, flipping through the scrolls and papers. “More specifically, she was last seen in Emperor Edelgard’s company at the Imperial ball.” 

The Imperial ball… that event of grandeur celebrated while the rest of the continent burned under the banner of war. She had known the Empire was long corrupted by decadence and greed, but each year’s report of the gathering would only further confirm it. And if the professor had been forced to attend… 

“It wasn’t enough to take her captive,” Rhea spits with venom, the familiar redness creeping at the edges of her vision. “But for that betrayer to parade her in front of the entire court like a prize…” 

Something catches in Shamir’s eyes that Rhea doesn’t miss, and she turns her full attention to the woman sitting across from her. That pounding sensation returns, and she grits her teeth together to ward it off. 

“Shamir, what aren’t you telling me?” 

—

The table smashes easily underneath her fists, the wood breaking apart and leaving splinters embedded in her flesh. If there was supposed to be pain, it doesn’t come. 

“Sister, please calm yourself!” 

Seteth’s exclamation falls on deaf ears as Rhea angrily paces the length of the room, chest heaving as she pants from the earlier action. Everything is hazed by a miasma of crimson, and all noise becomes nothing but faint droning. 

All she can think about is that traitor. 

A hand falls on her shoulder, and Rhea practically snarls as she shrugs it off, grabbing Seteth’s wrist and shoving him away. He stumbles beside Flayn, who looks to her aunt with wide and slightly fearful eyes. 

Now it hurts. 

“Rhea,” Seteth says slowly as he approaches her again, hands at his side. “I thought you had these… outbursts, under control.” 

She thought she had too. 

“You don’t understand,” Rhea whispers to him, head still pounding as the miasma thickens. “She… she…” 

He looks to his daughter, then back to her. His face carries both worry and doubt. “We both heard what you told us. About Shamir’s report.” 

“Then… you understand…” 

“We don’t have all the information, sister. One event without context does not undo everything we know about her.” 

“But…” 

Stepping forward, Seteth tries again to place a hand on her shoulder, and this time Rhea lets him. He squeezes it gently before turning back and finding a place at Flayn’s side. “She chose to stand with us, alongside the Knights and the Church. By all accounts, she’s spent the last several months as a _prisoner_. Just because she… because she… she…” Yet now even he appears to be unable to speak of it. 

And whatever fury Rhea thought had been tempered flares again, and she’s certain this time it has to be let out, or it will destroy them all. 

“She kissed the fucking emperor!” Rhea roars, and a glass laying amidst the ruins of the table shatters at the impact of her voice. 

“Rhea!” Seteth hisses, standing in front of his daughter protectively. “Mind yourself around Flayn!” 

But the girl doesn’t seem shocked so much as deep in thought, her eyes narrowed and brow furrowing in concentration. Neither adults seem to notice, as each is far too focused on the other. 

“We don’t know the circumstances,” Seteth tries to tell her, though he appears not to fully believe it himself. “She could have been coerced into it, felt it necessary for her safety and wellbeing… perhaps she’s just fearful of retaliation if she doesn’t reciprocate…” 

The fact that the report clearly stated who had initiated the scene at the ball made those words ring hollow. 

“Retaliation?” Rhea wants to reach over and shake some sense into her brother, but since that might actually hurt him, all she can do is clench her fists together. “You heard what the report said. Tea parties, fancy clothing, near total freedom. What part of her is a prisoner?” 

“I…” Seteth swallows his words as he ruminates on that. “The two of them were always… close. Maybe she’s being treated well to sway her sentiments?” 

Then it worked, Rhea thinks. Because prisoners don’t kiss their captors, not unless… 

It’s Flayn who speaks up next, taking advantage of the silence that had fallen over them. She looks to both her aunt and father with an expression of maturity that currently rivals their own. 

“Rhea, Seteth… do you think that maybe… maybe the Professor and Edelgard really are in love?” 

Oh Flayn. Sweet, innocent, _naive_ Flayn. 

“Love?” Rhea growls out, stepping closer to her niece. “The traitorous Professor and that Hresvelg bitch are incapable of love! They are only lustful whores, cavorting-” 

“Enough!” Seteth steps between the two of them, assuming a defensive stance. “You may be family, dear sister, but you will not raise your voice at her.” 

“No, no, no…” Rhea stares at him with empty eyes and a pulsating consciousness. “You… believe her?” 

Flayn pokes her head out from behind Seteth, but he gently pushes her back before she can speak. With slow and precise steps, he leads her to the end of the room, stopping before the open door. He leans over and whispers something in his daughter’s ear and she nods, but not before looking back to Rhea. 

“Auntie…” Then she’s gone. 

Only the two of them are left, and Rhea feels the piercing in her heart as she takes in Seteth’s hurt spirit and emotions. Why… why couldn’t he take her side? If the woman she knew truly still opposed the tyranny of the Empire like they did, she would have resisted that mutinous emperor at every turn. Not kissed her with what Shamir described as ‘unbridled passion’. 

How dare she take this from her too? The pain of Wilhelm’s scion turning on her still stung five years later. He had been the only human she ever fully depended on, had ever completely given her soul too… and she acted like that union meant nothing. 

Rhea’s blood begins to boil as her heart burns. 

Who else would betray her? Could no human ever be trusted? But the professor, she wasn’t… Eyes swivel up at Seteth, who stood like a statue with an expression so pained that it managed to permeate the miasma surrounding her, and Rhea finds she needs to lean against the wall for support. 

“Sister,” he starts, taking a step towards her, but she screams at him to stop before he gets too close. 

“How long,” Rhea mutters, “until you betray me too?” She closes her eyes and listens as his footsteps recede further back, until they must have surely reached the door again. 

The silence is a shroud, but she can’t bring herself to look if she is alone again. Or was she always alone to begin with? 

“Rhea…” His voice is like a knife in the dark, and she clutches herself. “Please… this isn’t like you. Flayn and I worry, and we don’t want to be pushed away when we can-” 

“Get. Out.” 

And the heavy wood slams shut, leaving the archbishop all by herself. 

Flames lick her throat and teeth as she collapses to the ground, and it’s only when Rhea finally opens her eyes that she realizes her hand - already fading pale and hardening - has left long gouges against the wall. White scales press up against her skin, and she has to stifle a howl as she pushes it all back down. 

Everything is red as blood. 

“Byleth…” The name hurts to say, and comes out more broken than not. “If you’ve turned on me, I’ll… I’ll…” 

She would burn her world to the ground, like Zanado had been. Wrap her arms around her and beg for forgiveness that she didn’t deserve. Take away the ones she loved one by one until there was no one left, then offer mercy that she would never give. Plead to listen to her voice, just one last time. 

Tell her how much she loved her. 

“Mother… I will never let anyone take you from me again.” 

She allows the transformation to grab hold, riding out the pain that it brings as flesh and sinew tears open and bone shifts around expanding muscle. Crashing out through the glass window just before she’s grown too large, she lets her wings take flight, carrying her above the city. The full moon hangs above Fhirdiad, the stars beyond that, shining brightly. And for the first time in over a millennium, the Immaculate One wails onto the heavens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I always imagine Rhea as someone that lives on the edge of paranoia, constantly fearful of betrayal. I hoped to channel that here, especially since she doesn't have the full context of what has happened with Byleth and Edelgard. 
> 
> Anyway, I currently have a few more of these interlude chapters planned, to help flesh out what is going on around Fódlan. They are roughly scheduled as; 
> 
> \- Dimitri (featuring Marianne) 
> 
> \- Claude (featuring Lysithea) 
> 
> \- Edelgard (featuring a character I don't want to spoil) 
> 
> These will be interspersed throughout the regular chapters. 
> 
> Again, thank you to everyone. I never expected this story to gain as much traction as it did, so I want to make it something I, and all of you, are proud of.
> 
> Author's note: 9-9-2020
> 
> After a lot of debate, I have deleted the original group of chapters after 16 so that I could start over and take the story in the direction I want it to, rather than merely rushing because I told myself I had to. If you remember reading something different at some point, that is what most likely occurred. I apologize for the confusion.


	18. The Prisoner-Knight of Hresvelg

~~_…I will remain in the Empire…_ ~~

~~_…I have chosen to stay in the Empire…_ ~~

~~_…I am in a romantic relationship with Emperor Edelgard…_ ~~

“Ughhhh,” Byleth groans as she crosses out another line on what was becoming an increasingly crowded piece of paper. She’s beginning to feel like a fool for even attempting this endeavor, yet it has been on her mind since the Imperial Ball, and she worries it will bury her if she doesn’t at least try. 

Setting her quill back in the inkpot, Byleth rubs her temples in a vain hope of somehow massaging out the words she needs to say. 

_But it’s not so much what I write, but who I’m writing to, isn’t it?_

Her eyes wander the room in distraction, falling on the Sword of the Creator nestled in the corner. It had been returned to her without any ceremony as a sign of trust, and while it was a slight comfort to have the familiar weapon back, there was still a sense of trepidation that accompanied it. 

Sighing, Byleth turns her attention back to the task at hand, grabbing a new sheet of paper. This time she decides to write the truth. 

_Lady Rhea,_

_Please forgive me._

_Byleth Eisner_

She takes one look at it before crumpling the entire paper and tossing it away. 

This was far more difficult than she had anticipated. It was already bad enough to want to write a letter explaining to Rhea that she had been captured and held for a while now, but to also explain that she was planning on _staying_ with the people that had been her captors was just as difficult. 

But Byleth had known for a while now that there was no future for her with the Church. Not when they would demand her place on the front lines to finish what she had started. Especially while they still kept secrets from her. 

She can’t imagine living or dying for Rhea. 

Her eyes sweep back to the Sword of the Creator, and a brief moment, Byleth wonders what it would be like to take up arms for Edelgard, to fight and kill for the future she sought to bring. A hand twitches as if in reflex, recalling memories of hundreds of prior battles. 

_Would it really be that bad?_

Yet when she puts a hand to the leather scabbard of the weapon, all she can truly picture are the lives she ripped away without a shred of remorse.

A deep sense of shame wells up within her, and she has to stop herself from grinding her teeth in frustration. _Why… why is this so difficult for me? I want to help El… I always have…_

So why had it been so easy to turn that blade against her? 

“I’m so fucking stupid,” Byleth groans as she lays her head on the desk, not even caring as the ink from a failed letter smudges her face. 

—

She doesn’t move until there’s a knock on the door and she rises to answer it. Standing on the other side is an eager Dorothea, who looks Byleth over with stern hands on her hips. 

“Professor… I know Edie is busy all day, but that’s not an excuse to stay cooped up indoors, especially when the weather is so nice.” 

Being chastised by one of her own students was something she wasn’t fully used to yet. _They’ve all grown in the last five years…_ It was enough to make her wonder if they even needed her anymore. 

Catching her bemused expression, Dorothea giggles. “You hadn’t even noticed, huh? How typical.” She puts her hands together. “So? Wanna join me outdoors?” 

Byleth can’t help but think that does sound nice, especially given her earlier annoyances. “Should we have tea in the gardens?” 

“I was more thinking we could take a stroll,” she suggests. “Old Enbarr is lovely this time of year, and I wanted to show you the opera house.” 

She blinks once, then again. “You mean outside the palace?” There’s a pause as a small knot forms in her stomach. “I’d have to ask Edelgard for permission to leave the premises…”

Frowning, Dorothea tilts her head in confusion. “Is that necessary? I thought you didn’t have any restrictions anymore since she pardoned you.” 

_That’s… yes, she did, didn’t she?_

Rubbing the side of her head sheepishly, Byleth nods. “You’re completely right. I… I don’t know why I thought any differently. Old habit I suppose.” 

“Heh, I’m not surprised you’d make that mistake.” Dorothea’s expression is teasing, and now Byleth thinks she understands how Edelgard feels when she does it to her. “Don’t tell me you would need her permission to do something as simple as, let’s say… splash around in a fountain?” 

_What is that supposed to mean?_ “No, I wouldn’t,” Byleth says in an effort to defend herself. “… She wasn’t _that_ strict.” 

“Good,” Dorothea smiles. “Even though things are different now, I’m glad you weren’t being mistreated.” 

_I couldn’t imagine El doing that…_

Looking down at herself, Byleth notices she was still dressed in the shorts and shirt she had slept in. “Er, give me a second to change, Dorothea. I think I’d set a bad example if I went out like this.” 

With a knowing grin, Dorothea nods. Closing the door behind her, Byleth undresses quickly, picking an outfit from the clothes Edelgard had given her over the months. She settles on a pair of black trousers trimmed with gold, a matching button-up shirt, and a tunic in Adrestian colors. 

Stepping in front of the mirror to examine herself, Byleth admires how well the clothing fits her, almost to a fault. The way it hugs her figure, enough to be tasteful, but not so much to hide the contours of her physique… She briefly ponders her partner’s taste in picking more military styles, but doesn’t resolve to complain; she prefers this over dresses and skirts by a large margin. 

In fact, there was almost something comforting about the whole thing, Byleth admits to herself. She wasn’t really even sure why, just that letting Edelgard dictate these things felt… safe. 

Thats’s when she spots the word ‘romantic’ inked backwards on her forehead in that messy handwriting of hers. 

“Fantastic,” Byleth grumbles as she wipes it away with a wet cloth. Opening the door, she glares at Dorothea, who giggles again. 

“I was wondering how long you’d take to notice,” she slyly grins. Her gaze goes up and down the length of Byleth’s body, and she nods approvingly. “I swear Professor, you’d make anything look amazing.” 

Byleth tries to hide the faint blush of pink on her cheeks as she lets Dorothea loop an arm through hers, then guide her out into the hallway and towards the palace front. 

When the two of them pass through the main entranceway and she isn’t stopped by a guard, it almost feels odd. 

_I’ve only ever left twice, each time under El’s supervision…._

But she shakes off the feeling of uncertainty and follows Dorothea, who leads her past the palace and into the city proper, through the wide streets and over the narrow waterways. The Mittlefrank Opera Company isn’t far off, and she’s ushered inside to meet some of the former diva’s old friends and co-stars. 

They relentlessly bombard her with questions, mostly about her new courtship with Adrestia’s ruler, which was seemingly the talk of the town. That’s when she learns that the people of Enbarr had taken to calling her _the Prisoner-Knight of Hresvelg_ , a title she isn’t sure is supposed to be insulting or endearing. 

The members of the Mittlefrank troupe insist it’s the latter. 

Was it true, they ask, that she had fallen for her captor, pledging her loyalty on bended knee in the middle of the ball? Or perhaps that she had been kept in silken binds at the Flame Emperor’s side, earning her freedom with gentle kisses and other acts of affection?

All Byleth can do is listen blankly to these absurd and dramatic rumors while Dorothea does her best to hide her laughter at the professor’s dumbfounded expression with each further question. 

No, Byleth insists, none of those things had happened. Yes, she admits, at no point had she attempted to escape, or rebel against her captors. _What’s their point?_

Eventually they all manage to move on to different topics, and Byleth does find herself enjoying the tour she gets of the Mittlefrank building. Dorothea and her old stage friends even put on a quick show just for her, a rendition of the climactic scene from an old and famous musical play. 

Dorothea’s solo is particularly beautiful. 

“I’m so sorry,” the songstress apologizes - but still giggling - when they finally leave the opera hall. “I hadn’t expected the speculation to have become so… salacious.” 

_No wonder you fit right in._

Glowering at her former student, Byleth does her best to appear upset instead of currently bouncing somewhere between embarrassed and amused. “Dorothea… I worry about the kind of company that you keep.” 

“Oh, I understand,” she grins at her. “An Emperor, a Spymaster, an Ex-Nobleman and a Traitor. Whatever would my friends think of me?” 

_Traitor…_ The word bounces around in Byleth’s skull for a while. _It’s not unfitting, I suppose._

Seemingly picking up on the older woman’s thoughts, Dorothea places a comforting hand on Byleth’s arm. “Professor, I didn’t mean to offend…” 

“No,” Byleth assures her. “You aren’t wrong. It’s just… something I still haven’t fully come to terms with.” 

She nods in understanding, but keeps quiet for most of their journey back. At one point they stop by a Brigidali trade store; Dorothea grabs a few packs of preserved meats for Petra, while Byleth uses gold Edelgard had given her to purchase a box of traditional sweets. 

Handing over the coins feels strange as well. She had been provided everything she needed during her stay - _no, imprisonment_ \- and so even the simple action of a financial exchange took some getting used to. The only time she had ever truly been responsible for her own monetary wellbeing was during her time as a teacher, and she had always blown the Church’s allowance on flower seeds, bait, and gifts. 

_I guess that hasn’t changed._

Their return is uneventful, and Dorothea hums softly to herself for most of it. Byleth suspects why - they had received word that the king of Brigid had made a full recovery, and Petra would be expected in the Empire for negotiations on his behalf. Even with her grandfather’s relative good health, the future queen was heavily involved in the island nation’s statecraft. 

Byleth was looking forward to seeing her again. 

“Hey Dorothea…” Coming to a halt before the guarded steps to the royal palace, Byleth turns to her, bringing her own hands together in a nervous gesture she had picked up from Edelgard. “This may seem random, but… when Petra returned to Brigid after the war started, did she have… trouble, fitting back in?” 

She ponders over it for a moment. “A little bit… she had been gone for over five years, and things always change with the passage of time. But Petra had been preparing for that moment since the first day she became the Empire’s hostage. It wasn’t so much a matter of _if_ , but just _when_.” 

That certainly did sound like the headstrong and studious girl Byleth had known. 

“I think the hardest part was the expectations placed on her,” Dorothea continues, gazing off wistfully into the afternoon sky. “Choosing to stay neutral in the conflict, but wanting to help her friends… diplomatic relations between Brigid and the Empire are still a little strained over the past and present, no matter how much Edie promises.” 

Byleth very much understands that. _By all rights, none of us should have ended up on the same side… and we almost didn’t._

“I imagine there was… pressure for her to pick a specific side.” 

“Of course. Brigid is very much divided on the issue. But our Petra knows what she wanted, and I don’t think anything could dissuade her from that goal.” Dorothea giggles. “She and Edie are more alike than either care to admit.” 

“It can be difficult being close to someone like Edelgard.” _Though I suppose the same can be said of me._

Laughing quietly in agreement, Dorothea nods. “Yes, it really can. Our Edie is something else entirely. Still…” She smiles fondly, a genuine expression full of warmth. “I have no regrets about putting myself on her path. The world is full of conflict and strife… if we have to struggle just a little more to build a future where it would never happen again… I think that’s a price worth paying.” 

They both fall into silence for a moment before a hand lays itself on top of Byleth’s, and she looks over to see a concerned Dorothea staring back, her emerald eyes glowing in the light of the high-rising sun. 

“Professor… we weren’t really talking about Petra, were we?” 

“No,” Byleth admits. “We weren’t.” 

—

Byleth practically sighs in relief when they return to the palace. 

With everyone else occupied by their duties, she’s left to her own devices. The garden provides a welcome distraction, and she takes to weeding among the blooming flowers. Whoever the groundskeeper for the palace was, they had started leaving this area unattended as a sort of concession to her hobby. Or perhaps Edelgard had kept to an earlier promise and ordered them too. 

Regardless, Byleth enjoys the simple responsibility, and doesn’t complain. 

A particularly stubborn weed refuses to be pulled out, and she reaches for the dagger kept in her boot. It was a small but sturdy thing, returned with the rest of her confiscated weapons and given by her father many years ago for a birthday she was now starting to realize was fake. 

One swift motion is all it takes to uproot the whole plant. Tossing it to the side, she contemplates the open space next to the carnations, then spots a planter of peony next to the flower bed. Smiling at the consideration, Byleth starts on a hole for the new growth, humming contently to herself. 

When she’s finished patting fresh soil over the peony, she examines the rest of the garden. The other flowers were coming along nicely, and she takes the time to collect some from each, wanting to pass them along to her friends.

She picks a fierce white magnolia for Ferdinand, hoping it captures his pride and nobility, no matter how humbled the years have made him. 

Roses are selected for both Dorothea and Manuela, whom Byleth thinks possess both the beauty and thorns to match. 

For Hubert, a lone gladiolus. She had given him one for his birthday many years ago, and he had actually kept it for a while. The sword lily is a fitting association for a man who hides his warmth beneath a sharp exterior, Byleth imagines. 

And as always, red carnations for Edelgard, the most important person in her life. _I wonder when that became true?_ Byleth knows it was some point far before she confessed her feelings with a kiss, but it all seems to run together in the widening river that had become their relationship. 

_El…_

It’s as she tries to stand up that Byleth realizes she’s started to cry. 

“Damn it,” she mutters under her breath, falling back on her knees in the dirt. The flowers spill from her hands as she wipes away the tears, but it hardly seems to be enough. 

_Why… what’s wrong with me?_

The soil on her hands only end up mixing with the salty liquid of the tears, and she realizes the futility of accomplishing anything in this state. 

It’s her students, she realizes, that’s causing this pain to well up and overwhelm her. _I miss them… all of them… so much._ She can’t even remember the last time they had all been together, happy and safe. 

_The month before the ceremony in the Holy Tomb…_ In truth it was the last gathering of the Black Eagles before the war, but even so, she hesitates to count it. Hubert had been gone back and forth between the capital running errands - Byleth now realizing he had most likely been setting up the invasion - while Edelgard had been distant, her responses and interactions uncharacteristically muted. _I was too busy with Rhea, getting ready for the ritual…_

_If I had reached out to her, what might have happened? Could something have changed?_

Another slight sob wracks Byleth’s body, but it’s almost comforting this time, and she’s thankful no one is around to watch. 

“The Prisoner-Knight of Hresvelg,” she mutters. A part of her wishes her role was that easily defined. She was supposed to be happy, grateful even, to no longer be the the Empire’s captive… so why were things so difficult?

It was easy for her to forget those feelings when she was with Edelgard, and Byleth already knew how much guilt she felt over their past - it would only be worse to add more to that burden. Or for any of her friends as well. _They’re all working so hard for the future… I can’t trouble them with feelings I can barely explain._

In the end, Byleth lets the tears run until her eyes dry out, then does her best to clean up and look presentable. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to see her like this. _I’m supposed to be better… I need to be their Professor, not some mess._

As she’s leaving the garden, flowers in hand, Byleth passes by the fountain, an ornately simple construct. The pool at the base is deep, and the water clear underneath a cloudless sky. 

_“Don’t tell me you would need her permission to do something as simple as, let’s say… splash around in a fountain?”_ Dorothea’s words echo back, and Byleth grits her teeth slightly. 

“Permission…” 

Dipping a hand into the water, Byleth feels the coolness brush against her skin. It’s more refreshing than she anticipated, and she senses a sort of rebellious thought take hold. 

Without even bothering to remove her jacket, Byleth launches herself into the basin of the fountain, water splashing everywhere as she submerges herself. 

It’s oddly freeing. And yet a pang of something tugs at her. _What exactly am I proving? That I can make stupid decisions without Edelgard? Because I already knew that._

The surface tension is destroyed in an instant when she comes back up, hair and clothes soaking wet. Running a hand through the green mop of locks and bangs, Byleth shivers as the crisp afternoon air hits her body. 

She wonders if the cold she might catch will be punishment enough. 

“Byleth Eisner!” A furious voice suddenly rings out, and she turns to see the red form of Emperor Edelgard striding towards her, eyes burning even from a distance. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“Uh, taking a dip?” Apparently that wasn’t the right answer. 

“Getting sick more like.” Edelgard stops in front of the fountain, crossing her arms. “Get out of the water,” she orders, and Byleth sheepishly steps out. 

They stare at each other for a moment before Byleth reaches down and picks up the carnation she had dropped, then hands it to Edelgard. “I was going to give you this later but… I grew this one for you.” 

Edelgard blinks in surprise, but smiles when she takes the crimson flower. Her features soften. “Thank you, my teacher. And… I’m sorry for yelling at you.” She looks genuinely guilty about it. “I was passing by, and your sudden _dive_ worried me.” 

The response Byleth tries to give is lost as she violently sneezes, then shivers slightly. Seeing her point proven, Edelgard can’t help but smirk. 

“Let’s get you upstairs, Professor. You can dry off and change clothes.” Her brow contracts just the smallest amount. “And explain what you were really doing in that fountain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I’m super sorry that it took so long to get this chapter out. I spent a long time debating and drafting multiple versions that all went in different directions until I settled on one I was happy with. 
> 
> I’ll admit that I’m rather nervous about this one. I’ve hinted off and on that the dynamic in Byleth and Edelgard’s relationship was always kind of messed up, and I wanted to explore that. Byleth has, at this point in the story, essentially been held captive by her _best friend_ for almost six months (not to mention harbored romantic inclinations for her captor). In that kind of situation, I imagine it would lead to some… unhealthy tendencies once Byleth was freed, in particular a sort of dependency on the person in charge of her for so long.
> 
> This is without mentioning Edelgard’s own issues with the whole thing. I want this to be something they work to overcome together (so don’t worry, there won’t be any forced drama. They are pretty good at communicating with each other by now). 
> 
> Thank you to everyone for your patience and interaction. It really makes my day to see how many people enjoy this rather self-indulgent story. :)


	19. Yours and Mine

“I swear, Byleth, but sometimes I feel as though I don’t understand you at all.” 

She can only grunt slightly in acquiescence as Edelgard continues to towel off her soaking wet hair, the heavy and water-laden bangs obscuring her vision. Her partner’s actions are a little rough, but Byleth finds it soothing as the towel runs over her scalp and through the green locks. 

They’re together in her room, which feels a lot smaller with two people in it instead of one. She supposes that compared to a prison cell, it may as well have been the largest space she could ever have been given. Not for the first time, Byleth debates asking Hubert to show her where he would have locked her up - just for the sake of perspective. 

“… I still remember when you and Petra decided to use the monastery pond for swimming…” 

Edelgard was continuing to talk, but Byleth had found she was starting to tune it out a little. Not on purpose, but because the repeated motions of the soft towel running through her hair was lulling. Feeling it come around the front, she closes her eyes as the cloth wipes up her bangs, taking the pooling drops of water with it. When it finally comes to a stop, she snaps back to reality. 

Circling around the chair in which Byleth was seated, Edelgard looks her over. “I guess that’s as dry as I can get your hair. Let’s get you out of those wet clothes now.” 

Byleth nods, then immediately brings a hand to the buttons on her shirt as she stands up. She manages to unbutton two before Edelgard turns pink. 

“Wait!” The Adrestian Emperor looks positively mortified. “… I’ll leave the room and give you some privacy.” 

But Byleth just shakes her head. “You can stay, if you want,” she responds quietly. Then the fledglings of a wicked grin find their way across her mouth. “I don’t mind if you stare, El.” 

“I…” Edelgard seems almost unsure of herself, but then there’s a glint of something in her lilac-hued eyes, and she steps up to Byleth, putting a hand to the lapel of her tunic. “I’ll at least help you undress.” 

They both stay silent as Edelgard carefully undoes each button of the jacket one by one, her gaze intently focused on the task at hand. With every one, she looks back up to Byleth’s face, who smiles in return. When the tunic is fully unbuttoned, it is placed over a chair to dry, and she starts on the dress shirt. 

All the while, Byleth stands still as a board, barely daring to breath. Being this close together wasn’t anything new, but the feeling of Edelgard’s hands gently weaving their way over her body is exhilarating. _I’d give every part of myself to her if she asked._

In a way, she feels like she has. 

When the last of the buttons come undone, Byleth shrugs off the shirt, letting it fall to the floor. Next she unbuckles her belt, then her trousers, and lets those join the shirt. The emperor pretends not to ogle, but the direction of her gaze betrays her, and Byleth just smiles lightly. She tugs off her underwear, which causes Edelgard to turn away with a flustered cough, hand covering her face. 

“El… I’ve said you can stare.” Byleth assures her, grabbing a new towel which she uses to start drying off the rest of her body. “You’ve seen me naked plenty of times by now.” 

“I know, but it’s different like this,” Edelgard weakly retorts, but she lowers her hand all the same, glancing away more often than not. Byleth just shrugs; she never felt shame over these sorts of things. A mercenary couldn’t afford to. 

She endeavors to finish quickly for the sake of Edelgard’s rapidly decaying dignity. Once she’s dry, Byleth puts on a less formal set of shorts and a shirt she rolls up to the midriff. She may not have her original combat outfit, but that wouldn’t stop her from occasionally emulating it, usually to Edelgard’s chagrin. 

At that moment there’s a knock on the door, and a servant enters with a tray. She places it on the desk, then pours what appears to be soup from a spouted vessel into a bowl. Bowing before she leaves, the servant glances between the emperor and the professor, then smiles faintly as the door closes behind her. 

_I guess we’re also the talk of the palace, huh?_ Byleth really hopes they don’t call her by that atrocious title either. 

“Here.” Edelgard hands her the bowl, and Byleth sees that it is soup, with vegetables and pieces of chicken. “It’s important to warm yourself up before you catch a chill.” 

As much as she wants to make a teasing remark about Edelgard’s aptitude for being a fussy mother, Byleth takes the bowl without complaint.

Sitting down on the edge of her bed, Byleth begins to spoon the food into her mouth, and is delighted with how good it tastes. The heat that settles in her stomach as a result does a remarkable job of wiping away the clammy feeling that her earlier fountain dive had wrought. As overbearing as Edelgard could be, that didn’t stop her from being grateful for it.

Edelgard takes the spot next to her, watching closely as Byleth devours the soup, then chuckles as she reaches over and grabs the vessel, pouring herself another portion. Both are content to share this moment in silence, interrupted by the unrefined slurping noises the ex-mercenary makes. 

—

“You’ve been crying,” Edelgard says suddenly as the last bowl of soup is finished and put away, her fingers entwining over and under each other almost impatiently. “The water may have washed away the tears, but I can see the redness around your eyes.”

Byleth only momentarily debates denying it, but she knows her partner will see right through any lie she gives. _She always does. We know each other too well._ “Yeah, I have.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Edelgard gently inquires. 

_I’m not sure I even understand what’s wrong._ The puzzling sensation known as human emotion was still something that troubled and confused her, and Byleth finds herself ashamed at being unable to give a straight answer. 

Sensing her hesitation, Edelgard smiles as an olive branch of reassurance. “I won’t pry if it makes you uncomfortable, but… you’ve helped me through more than a few emotional crises… and I’d like to be able to do the same for you.” 

_Those were nightmares born of past terrors… and restless sleep to avoid them. How can whatever I’m feeling compare?_ So Byleth just shakes her head. “No… you’ll think it’s stupid.” 

Predictably, that causes Edelgard to huff loudly, and she tilts her head to better catch the professor’s eyes with hers. “Do not speak for me, Byleth. If you do not feel comfortable sharing, I completely understand. But I will not let you deride yourself over something that is causing you distress.” 

The emperor’s familiar brand of stern comfort was exactly what Byleth needed, and she lets herself smile now too. Her students had always come to her with their problems, no matter how big or small. Was it so wrong of her to turn to them when she needed it herself? 

“I… I went out of the palace today, for the first time,” she explains. “The first time without you, I mean… since my, you know….” _Imprisonment._

“Yes, Dorothea told me as much. She was also rather concerned,” Edelgard states bluntly. 

For a moment Byleth’s pupils flare in anger, and she finds herself growing upset at this betrayal in their confidence. _She had no right to tell anyone!_ “Why?” 

“She said you acted subdued, like you were constantly nervous and on edge. And that you also asked her questions that made her think you might be having trouble as well.” 

“That’s… that’s just because I hadn’t been in Enbarr before.” It’s a weak excuse, and both of them know it.

Leaning forward, Edelgard meets her gaze unflinchingly. “Do you think you would have felt that way had I taken you?” 

Byleth instantly knows the answer; she had felt just fine during their trips to Garreg Mach and Hrym. They had a clear goal in mind together and their roles were equally as defined - Edelgard was in control, and she hadn’t thought it necessary to resist against that. 

_Oh…_ Because now Byleth thinks she’s starting to decipher it. 

“Professor, what I’m about to ask you may be a strange question, but humor me…” Edelgard tries to adopt a calming expression, yet there’s something more there that Byleth can’t quite make out, and she wonders just how carefully the younger woman had been evaluating her from the start of it all. “Do you wish I hadn’t freed you?” 

Eyes growing wide, Byleth looks down and away from the emperor so she couldn’t see the shame highlighted clearly on her face. Hands clutch together, and she tries to make herself as small as possible before answering. 

“I think it would have been easiest that way.” 

“Byleth.” Edelgard pushes herself closer until their shoulders are touching. “Why do you say that?” 

She stops and takes a deep breath, doing her best to pull all her errant thoughts and scraps of feelings together into something that loosely resembled spoken words.

“Because it was easy, being your prisoner.” Byleth lowers her head. “I didn’t have to worry about my place in all of this… or yours.” 

“But what about your own autonomy? Did you not wish to have control of yourself back?” Edelgard’s voice is a slight pitch higher than normal, and Byleth senses that this is something deeply personal to her in a way it wasn’t for herself. 

“I’ve never truly had control over my own life. My father taught me the sword when I was young, and so I became good at it, to protect and help him. Being a mercenary was the only world I knew.” 

_Jeralt… would you be proud of me now?_

“Teaching… Rhea didn’t give me a choice, did you know that? She made it clear I couldn’t say no to her request, and how could I even try… she was the archbishop. But I became good at that too, for the sake of my students.” 

Edelgard smiles faintly at that. 

“And then finally, with you… you treated me well, were kind to me, and we had the chance to fix things between us….There was no need for me to fight against that… So I guess I became good at being yours as well.” 

“Mine…” There’s a furrow to Edelgard’s brow as she mutters that out loud. “Is that what you saw yourself as?” 

Byleth nods. “I know we put on an act for Arundel, but I was _your_ prisoner, El. We emphasized that over and over, and I guess at some point, I just accepted it…. I figured belonging to you wasn’t that bad, compared to the alternatives.” 

Now Edelgard’s expression is one of determination. “I’m beginning to understand why you feel the way you do… In truth, I suspected this might happen, but I kept my distance because I thought you would tell me earlier.” She chuckles just enough for it to be ironic, oddly reminiscent of Hubert. “I clearly didn’t count on you being nearly as stubborn as me.” 

“You knew this would happen?” 

“Somewhat, yes.” Edelgard’s eyes lose a little of their light, and she sighs in a manner that feels quite sad to Byleth. “It’s normal for someone that is, well, transitioning out of captivity to be at odds with themselves for a while after… the same thing happened to me.” 

The admission causes a great deal of internal anguish for Byleth, who always felt a mutual sense of pain in their discussions of her past. But she frowns at the comparison Edelgard had drawn between them. 

“Wait, El… what I went through doesn’t even come close to how you suffered,” she insists. “I was never…” 

“… Chained? Tortured? Locked away in the dark?” Edelgard almost seems amused at the professor’s denial. “Just because someone had it worse than you doesn’t mean your own feelings don’t matter. Pain is relative, my teacher.” 

Byleth wants to fight back against that, but she knows the Adrestian Emperor was just as fond of winning arguments as she was at starting them. So instead she just nods in acceptance of the pain they did share, and in recognition of the ones that belonged only to herself. 

“Sometimes I feel like it was a cruel sort of mercy, to free me,” Byleth says more quietly than she intended. “When it would have been easiest to just keep me as I was.” 

Disagreement is sketched across Edelgard’s face with obvious evidence, but she acknowledges the feelings her partner struggled with by reaching out and putting her hand on top of Byleth’s. A reassuring squeeze is given. 

“Perhaps it was… but you understand why I had to do it.” 

“I do. It would have been grossly inappropriate for you to court your own prisoner.” _Though I suppose the difference between us is that I would have accepted it._

“It was already inappropriate of me to treat you the way I did,” Edelgard admits somewhat sheepishly. “I should never have been allowed to be in charge of someone I had romantic inclinations for.” 

That causes Byleth to chuckle this time, and she turns her hand over and lets her fingers wrap around Edelgard’s. “I think it’s safe to say that neither of us cared much for proper captor-captive decorum.” 

“True. You did kiss me first after all.” 

“And I have no regrets about doing so,” Byleth tells her, happy to be able to say that with honesty. “Even if I’m contending with the unintended consequences.” 

Edelgard smiles at hearing that, and she pivots herself until their knees are knocking against each other, still gripping Byleth’s hand tightly. 

“Like I said, it is completely normal to feel that way. Your mind is still under the belief that things haven’t changed. It will just take some time for you to catch up.” 

“How did you get over it?” Byleth asks, though she’s still troubled by the idea of comparing the hell that the younger Hresvelg had gone through to the relative ease of her own imprisonment. 

“Truthfully, parts of myself still feel like they are down there in the darkness of the palace,” Edelgard says without shame. Byleth knew this much for herself - she had witnessed enough of the then-princess’s nightmares to understand what she meant. “But it was Hubert who helped me pick up the pieces and move forward… I owe my life to his patience and unflinching willingness to stay at my side in those early months.” 

Gratitude blooms for the dour man somewhere in the dead confines of the professor’s heart, and she makes a note to herself to find a way to thank him for looking after her for all those years. 

“The most difficult step,” Edelgard continues, “is forcing yourself to act out the things that unnerve or terrify you. It is said that time heals most wounds, but those of the mind require special attention, lest they rot and fester.” 

“So for me…?” 

Stroking Byleth’s hand, Edelgard hums quietly to herself as she thinks it over, before nodding with confidence. “Explore your newfound freedom… maybe indulge in the privileges I had previously denied you. Go back out into Enbarr and purchase new clothing or books.” One of her fingers grazes over the ex-mercenary’s knuckles. “And please don’t overlook how much you can count on your friends… I know even Hubert cares, regardless if he ever shows it.”

 _Hopefully one of these days he’ll admit to that._

“I guess that means I’ll be relying on you as well,” Byleth muses out loud. “You’ll have to show me how to be free.” 

“That’s only fair, considering how much I’ve always relied on you.” Some wayward thought makes Edelgard giggle. “Yet I can’t help but point out the irony of asking your former captor to assist you with this.” 

Byleth returns the laugh, then kisses Edelgard on the lips with enthusiasm, catching the younger woman by surprise, but only for the length of time it takes to reciprocate the intimate gesture. They separate, leaning their foreheads against each other, grinning wildly. 

“Thank you, El, for always being there for me,” Byleth practically whispers. 

“My starlight…” Edelgard’s words are faint, but no less sincere than usual. “You owe me nothing in the way of thanks, seeing as I am the cause for most of your sorrows. “ 

“And quite a lot of my happiness,” Byleth retorts, smirking as she coaxes an appreciative smile from the emperor. 

Shutting her eyes, Edelgard brings a hand to the side of the professor’s face, running a thumb over her cheek. Then she presses forward, her lips overtaking Byleth’s with a matching passion. Carefully, the two shift in their positions so they are facing each other fully, and soon enough Edelgard is almost entirely on her lap. 

They stare at each other for a while, the earlier tension having long since evaporated into nothingness, leaving behind only themselves and the feelings shared between them. 

“Wanting something?” Byleth teases. 

Edelgard burns red at the remark, but she nods. “I’m all done with work for the day, so maybe we could…” 

“… Make out?” Byleth finishes, enjoying the further blush that settles across her partner’s face at the abject honesty of their desires. But again, she nods. 

“Not in such crass terms, but… yes.” Expression softening, Edelgard seems far more vulnerable than Byleth ever remembers her being, and she tells herself that these moments of physical intimacy are new for both of them. “What do you want, my teacher?” 

It takes all of two seconds for Byleth to draw up an answer to that question, and she finds her face blushes a deeper shade of crimson as she tries to say it. “I… I want you to push me down on the bed, climb on top, and kiss me like we did the night of the dance.” 

The complete and utter honesty of that response causes Edelgard’s breath to momentarily catch in her throat. With a bout of confidence, she takes her hands and places them firmly on Byleth’s shoulders, then gently shoves the professor onto the bed and on her back. The next thing she sees is Edelgard’s violet eyes looking down at her, loose white hair falling down around the curves of her face. 

“You want this.” It’s both a statement and a question. 

“Hmmmm,” Byleth confirms. “I want you, El.”

Slowly, Edelgard inches her way closer until she’s straddling Byleth at the hips. “And I want you, my starlight… to make you mine.” 

Byleth wonders if it’s possible to stop breathing entirely and somehow still live. 

“But…” Edelgard leans over her, back arching as she brings her lips closer to Byleth’s. “I need to do it the right way. Not as your captor or emperor, but as your partner.”

“As equals.” 

“Yes,” Edelgard confirms. “I believe it’s important that we be open and honest about our wants and desires… and I’d like to make sure you never feel obligated to reciprocate anything you are uncomfortable with.” 

She feels like scoffing and laughing at the suggestion that Edelgard would take advantage of her in any way, but Byleth understands this is important to her, and so she simply nods. “El… I know we’re figuring out this whole ‘equality’ thing, but I trust you.” 

Grinning with a sense of self-admonishment, Edelgard takes a hand and lays her palm on top of Byleth’s, entwining their fingers together. “Apologies… I’m still getting used to all this.” 

“You could take me prisoner again,” Byleth playfully suggests. “It might make things feel more familiar.” 

Now Edelgard does laugh, and the sound is without strain or guilt. She traces the length of Byleth’s mouth with a curious finger, then lets it travel down to her chin, tilting the professor’s head up and fully in her direction. 

“Only if you’re really bad,” she teasingly warns, which earns a giggle out of both of them. 

“When did you get as terrible as me, El?” 

Her answer comes in the form of a kiss, claiming the older woman for herself. It’s easy for them to fall back into that comfortable pattern of exchanging affections like weapon blows, each trying to do better and be stronger than the other. Only the occasional need to come up for air disrupts them. 

“I want to pin your wrists together,” Edelgard says suddenly, her cheeks already coloring red at the request. “We agreed to be open, and, well… I want to try, if that’s okay with you.” 

_That does sound kind of fun,_ Byleth thinks, though she still tilts her head to appear questioning. “I don’t mind, but… why?” 

“Because… well, Manuela suggested it,” Edelgard explains, noticing the incredulous expression that the answer draws. “I know, I know, but she brought up trying out these things as a way for me to help with my need to control everything… by expressing and working through it with your consent.” 

_Leave it to Manuela to come up with something like that…_ Yet the idea makes sense to Byleth; they didn’t keep anything from each other, and she felt at her safest with her. If there was any way for the two of them to heal together, doing so intimately wasn’t the worst she could think of. 

“Alright El, go right ahead.” 

Smiling nervously, Edelgard brings Byleth’s wrists together, pinning them above her head with one hand. Letting them rest against the pillow, the professor tires to pull them apart, but finds Edelgard’s grip is rather strong. 

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” Her tone is worried. 

“Not at all,” Byleth chuckles. “Focus on what you’re doing.” 

The instruction comes out almost like she was still a teacher, but it noticeably puts Edelgard at ease, who nods. Her free hand strokes the side of Byleth’s face, and she leans into it, enjoying the sensation. 

“How do you feel, El?” 

“… Good, actually. It’s kind of nice to have you without the, you know…” she trails off, then swiftly plants a kiss on Byleth’s lips. “What I mean to say is that I appreciate not feeling guilty for once. And what about you?” 

A part of Byleth finds the whole thing rather cathartic - being able to give herself to Edelgard in a proper, temporary manner like this contrasted sharply with the way her mind insisted that she was permanently bound to her. It was safe, with no expectations placed on either of them. She tugs against the hand keeping her restrained, but it doesn’t loosen. 

“It’s… interesting. I actually really like having you on top…” Byleth blushes at that admission. “But you aren’t kissing me enough,” she complains. 

Edelgard rolls her eyes, but she sets forth to conquer her partner’s mouth and lips once more. This time Byleth pushes back with intensity, wanting to give the emperor as much of a challenge as she can muster, even from underneath her. But even then, she craved more. 

“My neck,” she whispers in the space separating their kisses and breath, “try it there.” 

Intrigued, Edelgard brings her head lower, teasing the side between the throat and nape. The touch of her lips against Byleth’s skin elicits first a grunt, but then a moan as the intensity increases, and she quickly changes tactics, pressing harder instead of merely kissing. 

“Ah, El!” She hadn’t meant to cry out like that. 

“Hmmm, do you want me to stop?” 

“Don’t you dare,” Byleth threatens with what is practically a growl. 

Evidently taking that as a challenge, Edelgard continues her kissing, making sure to leave no part of her lover’s neck unattended. At no point does her hold over Byleth’s wrists slacken, a sort of firm reminder. And when she applies just a hint of teeth to the last kiss, Byleth gasps out from a pleasure she didn’t quite fully understand. Not yet, anyway. 

There would be plenty of time for them to figure it all out. 

—

“I think I’ll need to wear my collar up for the next few days.” 

They were both laying in bed together, Edelgard’s arms around her partner’s waist as she holds her from the side, Byleth on her back. The last vestiges of the evening light were fast slipping away, and darkness would soon descend over Enbarr and the palace. 

Edelgard traces the pattern of bruises on the professor’s neck, humming as she does. “You could get Manuela or Dorothea to heal you… but I’d rather you didn’t.” 

Turning over so they are facing each other, Byleth quirks an eyebrow up in response. “May I ask why?” 

“Because I want you to remember that you’re mine,” Edelgard replies with a heavy blush. 

“That’s conditional!” Byleth amusedly retorts. “Do you know what they’ve started calling me in Enbarr? _The Prisoner-Knight of Hresvelg_.”

“Really?” Edelgard giggles. “Is it bad that I kind of like that name?” 

_Of course you would._ “But it’s not even true!” Byleth pouts. “I’m neither your prisoner nor your knight.” 

The only response she gets is a suggestive wiggle of the eyebrows, and she groans, then puts her arms around the emperor and tugs themselves together. 

As Edelgard laughs and lets herself be pulled in, her neck being nuzzled gently, Byleth reflects on just how _right_ the whole thing feels. There weren’t a lot of things in life that she felt she had earned, but this, this wonderful closeness with someone she feels _truly_ understands her… well, maybe she had fought and won the right to be happy. At least with this. 

“And how are you feeling?” Edelgard asks, lifting her head so they could lock eyes. “In regards to our earlier discussion I mean.” 

That requires a bit of thought. “It’s still a little scary to think about,” she admits. “But I do feel good knowing it’ll get better… and that I’m not alone.” 

Edelgard smiles at the remark, and her hand reaches over to lay on top of Byleth’s. “I’m starting to realize how difficult I’ve made things for you… I never intended that you be so torn between myself and the path you chose.” 

_My path…_

Those are the words that cause something to dislodge in Byleth, buried deeply for over half a decade of dreamless sleep and months of reconciliation. _My path…But it wasn’t, was it?_ The decision had been made in an instant, given to her with the illusion of having no choice at all. _I thought I was doing the right thing…_ She had been scared, and that fear had driven her to raise the Sword of the Creator at her own student. Even if she was the Flame Emperor… she owed her more than that. More than just a swift judgement and the severance of their mismatched relationship. 

How much of it was a mistake?

Byleth feels the wetness of the tears running down her face before she has even realized she’s crying again. 

“Hey,” Edelgard coos gently as she lets Byleth bury her face against her shoulder. “It’s okay, my teacher.” 

“El, I…” 

But she just presses a kiss to the top of Byleth’s head as a means of interruption. “Whatever you are thinking… it isn’t all on you.” Her hand reaches out to stroke the professor’s mint-green hair. “I was the one that kept secrets from you. I was the one who betrayed you, who hurt you. Please… never blame yourself for what I’ve done.” 

Even though her voice is clear and commanding as always, Edelgard’s body trembles in her arms, and Byleth hugs her closer, blinking away tears. _We’re still carrying so much pain between us._

“I wish you had told me,” Byleth manages to say despite the constriction of her throat. “And I wish I had trusted you.” 

“And I should have. More than anything, I should have taken off that mask and spoken to you with honesty.” Edelgard’s response is weighed down with gravity in her words, slow and impactful like a fallen star. Her hands tighten at Byleth’s back, seeking comfort as she speaks. “Yet you’ve never given up on me. No matter how stubborn and selfish and controlling I am, you are always so patient.” 

_How could I be anything else? You were my student, my friend… and I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most._

“Even now, I feel as though I am still learning from you, my teacher. Each day we share together is a precious gift, and one that…” Edelgard trails off, showing a rare uncertainty. 

_… that I feel I don’t deserve,_ Byleth finishes for herself, knowing the feeling well. 

They hold their embrace for just a while longer, then separate. Looking into Edelgard’s lilac cornea she can see the shimmer of unshed tears, contrasted to the sharp flush of her cheeks. 

“We’ll get through this,” both say at the same time, trying to be reassuring for the other. Both also laugh at doing so, grateful for something to share that wasn’t self-inflicted sorrow. 

“I know we’ve forgiven each other, but I hope… maybe one day we can forgive ourselves as well.” 

“I don’t think I’m quite there yet,” Byleth answers, and she can sense Edelgard feels the same way. “But I hope so too.” 

_It feels good to have a dream like that_ , she thinks. Not ambitious, but she was never one for ambition anyway - Edelgard had plenty to go around. Something to look forward to in the future, to work towards as a goal beyond just waking up day by day and going through the motions; mercenary, teacher, and whatever she was now. 

For a moment, she even contemplates, not with trepidation or unease but _anticipation_ , what she could make for herself in the world that her partner was fighting to create. It had always been terrifying to imagine having control over such an important thing, but now…

“I’m glad it’s you,” Byleth tells her, smiling. “Out of everybody in the world that my past, present and future could be shackled to, I’m happy it’s you, Edelgard von Hresvelg.” 

“And you, Byleth Eisner, my starlight.” 

Their next kiss is far tamer and more methodical, working through the motions with a precision that leaves nothing out. As they share this dance of affection, an unspoken agreement passes between them, and when the emperor and the professor are both too exhausted to continue, the questions is raised. 

“Will you stay?” 

A nod is the immediate response, and Byleth pulls the sheets and blankets over themselves, letting herself snuggle into Edelgard’s arms. The whole thing feels so natural to her. 

“Good night El,” she yawns loudly. 

“And good night to you, Byleth.” 

Neither quite remember who falls asleep first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big Brain: _Edelgard top, Byleth slight power bottom_
> 
> Galaxy Brain: _Both use physical intimacy as a way to safely explore and understand their shifting roles in each other's lives._
> 
> And yes, Manuela has a habit of giving Edelgard unsolicited relationship advice that she knows the emperor will be too flustered to chide her for. Seems to be working so far! 
> 
> I definitely think the two of them needed to have a sort of 'debriefing' about how things were up until recently, and I hoped to cover some of it here. 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I hope you enjoyed reading it.


	20. Brother, Sisters

“No… father… please …” 

Byleth instantly shoots awake, the sheets pooling around her body as she sits up, shrugging off the last vestiges of sleep. Living as a mercenary had instilled a peculiar brand of restfulness, somehow both alert and deep in slumber all at once. Whatever noise had awoken her, she knew her mind considered it an oddity. 

“… stop… hurts… I…” 

Ordinarily Byleth adored watching Edelgard as she slept; her silver-white hair completely undone, breathing gently before her eyes flutter open and she smiles… if there was any experience sweeter, she had yet to find it. 

But now as the emperor thrashes and cries out, her face constricted in tight anguish, she feels powerless for the first time in a long while. 

“El…” Byleth puts a hand on Edelgard’s shoulder, but the younger woman reflexively shakes it off, mumbling something indiscernible. 

She tries again. “Edelgard, please.” This time she lowers herself back onto the bed, slipping an arm around her waist in an effort to hold her more closely. “It’s just a nightmare.” 

Instead of trying to shove her away again, Edelgard whimpers - a noise that almost breaks Byleth’s heart - and lets herself be snuggled against her partner, her eyebrows rising and falling as if in conflict with each other. 

“By…” 

“I’m here, El.” 

Byleth continues to hold her while she fights against whatever demons and pain her mind creates, until eventually Edelgard’s eyes open carefully, blinking in adjustment. Immediately she sits up, pushing herself free from Byleth’s grasp and scooting away from her. 

“My teacher…” She shakes her head, lips pursed in a thin line. “I… I apologize for waking you.” 

It strikes Byleth just how vulnerable Edelgard appears in that moment. Sitting up in bed, the Adrestian Emperor looks very much like the young woman she actually was, with her hair messy and sticking up in several places, while her long-sleeved nightgown, immaculately pressed the night before, had wrinkled over the course of their shared sleep. Byleth can easily make out the ends and beginnings of several scars at her wrists and neckline.

“It’s okay,” she quietly responds. 

The moonlight that trickles in through the blinds of the emperor’s bedchambers casts a light shadow across the wall as it touches them both. Of the two, Edelgard’s bed was by far the larger and more comfortable, so they had decided to use it whenever Byleth would spend the night. Which was now more often than not. 

She knows neither of them are getting any more sleep. “I’ll make us some tea.” 

Edelgard stays quiet as Byleth places a kettle over the fireplace, the flames licking the bottom of the cast-iron. She wants to ask about the nightmare, but understands that if Edelgard is willing to share, she will do so on her own. That was always how it had been between them - bit by bit, piece by piece as they chose to reveal themselves. 

_Maybe soon I’ll explain about my heart,_ Byleth thinks, imagining that it was impossible at this point for Edelgard not to have found out; co-habitation revealing more about each other than spoken words ever could. 

Finally the kettle begins to whistle, and she takes it off the fire and pours the hot water into two mugs, adding bergamot leaves to both. She lets them steep before handing one to Edelgard, who nods in appreciation. Byleth settles on the end of the bed, giving the emperor space while they drink. 

“You know,” Edelgard eventually says, lowering her cup. “I’m starting to think I should have conscripted you into being my retainer… somehow you make tea better than anyone.” 

It’s a relief to hear that light-hearted and teasing tone of voice, and Byleth smiles. “I wouldn’t have minded, honestly. I was practically begging for something to do.” 

“Yes, I remember… you wanted to teach again, and I kept pushing back.” Edelgard now smiles as well. “I think that was the first time we really argued over the terms of your imprisonment.” 

“You gave in,” Byleth points out, and that coaxes a soft laugh from the other woman. 

“I did. Perhaps too easily.” 

“Like I said, you were always the world’s worst captor… or maybe I was just bad at being a political prisoner?” Byleth muses. 

Edelgard chuckles, taking a final sip of her tea before placing the mug on her nightstand. “I appreciate that we can joke about such things, Byleth.”

“Me too.” The professor looks down at her own empty cup. “Would you like some more tea? I could sneak down to the kitchens and try to fetch us something to eat as well.” 

Again, the emperor laughs in that muted way of hers. “You really would make a good retainer, wouldn’t you?” But she shakes her head. “I’m fine, however. This has all been a… welcome distraction.” 

“I’m glad.” Still, Byleth doesn’t press on the contents of the nightmare; it was enough to know it hadn’t shaken her too badly. Though she’s curious about something else. “Would you want that? Me being your retainer, I mean.” 

Evidently surprised at the comment being taken seriously, the corners of Edelgard’s lips curl up in amusement. “I can’t deny I hadn’t thought of it… But I still believe that the path you walk should be decided by you alone.” 

_My path is by your side, El…_ But Byleth understands, as she wasn’t sure in what capacity that even entailed. 

“Now come here,” Edelgard all but orders, having settled up against the headboard. “I find myself missing you.” 

“As you command, Your Majesty,” Byleth cheekily responds, enjoying the slight blush it sends across her cheeks. She obeys readily enough, letting herself be drawn closer until her head is resting on the emperor’s lap. 

_That’s quite the privilege._

Humming a quiet tune, Edelgard begins to run a hand through Byleth’s hair, which was now longer than she ever remembers it being. She smiles down at her, and despite the dark circles around her eyes, Byleth thinks she is still the most beautiful woman in the entire world. 

“Thank you,” Edelgard says to her. “Ever since we’ve known each other, you’ve always made weathering these sleepless nights easier.” 

She takes a moment to lazily trace a finger over the patchwork of lip-shaped bruises that adorn the area between the professor’s neck and shoulder, proof of her claim over the other, renewed each evening in physical agreement. 

“You’re mine,” she whispers almost in reverence. 

_How many times is it that you’ve captured me, El? My life, my body, my heart…_ “I’m yours,” she confirms, thinking it a strange sort of equality, but nevertheless one they made work in the confines of their ever-shifting relationship. 

Goddess, Edelgard made her feel things she never knew were possible. 

“El…” Byleth reaches upwards and brushes a stray lock of white away from the violet hues they obscured. “ _My_ El.” 

Edelgard’s eyes sparkle with mirth. “And here I thought _I_ was the possessive one.”

“Hmmm, you still are,” Byleth retorts good-naturedly, and she’s rewarded with one of those bright and earnest laughs she loves so much. 

—

For the millionth time that morning, Byleth tugs at the stiff collar of her overly formal jacket, wishing she had chosen something more casual. She debates making a retreat to her own room and changing, but knows she wouldn’t be able to get away with it. Not while in _her_ company. 

“El, I worry this will take my head off if I glance in the wrong direction.” 

“Nonsense,” Edelgard tells her, reaching up to readjust the collar and lapel. “You look very handsome.” 

“Wonderful, I’ll make a good-looking corpse. Why am I dressed like this again?” 

Edelgard rolls her eyes in that type of annoyed affection she reserves entirely for her, then places a palm against Byleth’s cheek. “Because, my dear teacher, this is your first official state function as my partner. And you need to look presentable.”

“I always look presentable,” Byleth protests. 

“You always look beautiful,” Edelgard clarifies, smiling as she draws a faint blush from both of them. “That’s different from presentable.” 

“And what about the dance?” 

Taking her hands to crease out yet another wrinkle on the professor’s top, Edelgard shakes her head. “We were toeing a rather dubious line there, so I don’t count it as official.” Then her eyes flash back up. “And stop trying to get out of this on a technicality.” 

Byleth grumbles to herself but allows the adjustments to continue, only interrupting briefly to swat Edelgard’s hand away from her collar again. Finally the emperor steps back, looking her over before nodding. 

“There. At least now Petra won’t think I’ve let you get away with being a slob for the last six months.” 

_Goddess, you are so fussy._ But Byleth just smiles, then slips an arm around Edelgard’s waist and pulls her close. She catches the delighted expression that adorns itself across her face, and leans in to kiss the younger woman firmly on the lips. 

The kiss is both warm and soft, and Byleth thinks to herself that she could do this for the rest of her life and it would never lose its magic.

“Absolutely nauseating,” Hubert grouses from where he was standing near the door, arms crossed in irritation. “Is it really necessary for me to be here to witness _this_?” 

Edelgard coughs awkwardly as she steps back, blushing with a light pink across her cheeks. “Yes, well, we may have gotten a little carried away.” 

_I don’t think we went nearly far enough._ But Byleth keeps that thought to herself. 

Hubert cocks his head and settles back against the wall. “Your Majesty, if you wanted someone to watch you make out with the Professor, I’m sure Dorothea would happily oblige.” 

The emperor’s eyes narrow at her retainer, but instead of growing angry, she just sighs. “Hubert, your sense of humor could use some work.” 

He shrugs. “I thought it was funny.” 

“I- heh-” 

They turn to look at Byleth, who was busy holding both hands to her mouth in order to stifle her own laughter. She shakes her head, but is overcome with another fit of poorly muffled giggles. 

“Wonderful,” Hubert flatly remarks. “And you haven’t yet answered my question, Lady Edelgard. Why am I here?” 

She doesn’t respond right away, instead waiting for Byleth’s laughing fit to subside. When it does she reaches over and takes her hand, then grabs Hubert’s as well, much to his surprise. 

“Hubert…” She smiles faintly, almost invisible to anyone that couldn’t recognize the telltale signs. “You know I consider you my blood.” 

“I am your servant, Lady Edelgard.” But there’s a brief faltering in his voice that Byleth has never heard before. 

“You are more than that to me,” she says in a way that invites no further argument, and the corners of his mouth curl upwards. “How long have we known each other?” 

“Almost two decades now,” he answers. 

Edelgard nods, squeezing his hand tightly. “And you’ve always been there for me… even when I was taken, you fought to reach me… when I was the only one left, you stayed at my side, guiding me out of the darkness.” 

His green eyes flash, and for a moment they seem to quiver. 

“We’ve looked out for each other for years, because we were the only ones who could,” Edelgard continues. “And that gives us a bond forged stronger than anything on the planet. You are my _brother_ , Hubert, and I want to make this clear now, before anything else.”

“Before what?” But he turns to see Byleth still holding her other hand, and that creates understanding. “Ah.” 

Byleth grins, then grabs his hand before he could stop her, the three of them now forming an affectionate triangle. He appears utterly repulsed. 

“Hubert, you know what I’m about to say, don’t you?” 

Grimacing, he closes his eyes and nods in the affirmative. “Unfortunately, Your Majesty, I have a feeling I do.” 

“Good, then this will be easy.” Edelgard runs a thumb over Hubert’s gloved knuckles, and she smiles again. “I’m aware that the relationship between you and Byleth has never been a comfortable one. Between what she’s told me are threats to kill her…” 

“… Completely justified.” 

“Her decision to fight for the Church...” 

“… Rather predictable.” 

“Not to mention everything that has happened in the last few months…” 

“… She was remarkably well-behaved,” Hubert concedes. 

“And so I understand your reservations about our courtship, and I am grateful that you’ve been accepting of it despite that,” Edelgard finishes. 

“You forgave me,” Byleth interjects. “Just as I forgave you. As Edelgard did, and I did to her.” 

Looking at the physical contact they shared, Hubert remains silent, though his features soften somewhat. With an encouraging smile from her partner, Edelgard takes that as an opportunity to continue. 

“So here’s what I’m trying to say… Byleth is family to me.” The professor feels the emperor’s hand tighten its grip on hers, and she returns the gesture with ease. “We may have only been courting each other for a short while, but I have felt this way for a long time.” 

“As have I,” Byleth adds. 

“And you will probably vehemently disagree with what I’m about to ask you… but I was hoping you might one day see her as something like a sister… just as she might consider you…” 

“My brother,” Byleth whispers, finding it difficult to say those thoughts out loud despite Edelgard’s reassurances. 

Hubert’s expression is indiscernible, his only motion is to exhale softly though his nose, blinking slowly. It’s genuinely nerve-wracking for Byleth, who imagines any number of reactions from the typically sinister man, most of them unpleasant. 

_Why would I want him to be my family too?_ It was an odd question, but she has an easy answer for herself. _Because he’s important to me, just like he is to Edelgard. Even if there’s nothing else that we share… at least we have her in common._

It feels strange to admit that she cares for Hubert von Vestra. 

Even stranger still when he looks up, and then squeezes her hand in turn. There’s a glint of something in those moss-green eyes she doesn’t recognize. 

“Professor… no, _Byleth_ ,” he corrects, “I find myself continuously astounded by the depths of your foolishness.” 

Byleth can sense Edelgard about to say something, but he holds up a hand to stop her. 

“Let me be clear. I am, first and foremost, an instrument of Her Majesty’s will. All that matters to me is ensuring that her ambitions are reached.” 

He then sighs. 

“And yet… I cannot deny that I have grown fond of you, Byleth.” Hubert says without any sarcasm or dry wit. “You have surprised me at almost every opportunity, from the very moment you were brought to Enbarr, to your decision to stay with us.” 

Byleth smiles softly in encouragement, kneading his palm with her fingers to ease the tension she felt there. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable… but I think we’ve always looked out for each other in our own way.” 

“Even when I repeatedly threatened to end your life?” 

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Byleth points out. 

Edelgard tugs on their hands, drawing all three of them closer together. “Hubert… we’ve spent so long telling each other that we could only trust ourselves, but that wasn’t true, was it.” Not a question, but a statement of fact. 

“It can be difficult to open up after keeping everything pushed down inside for so long… especially when a certain someone bluntly wields their emotions like a weapon,” she continues, glancing in Byleth’s direction. “And for people like us, who have insisted on being stubborn for most of our lives… it can be harder still.” 

It’s the best olive branch the emperor can offer. 

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t try.” 

Blinking once, then twice, Hubert stares at Byleth with unease, which quickly transforms into what can best be described as horrified acknowledgment. 

“Goddess damn it,” he blasphemes, “we really are a family, aren’t we?” 

Both women laugh at his realization, and Edelgard smiles warmly at the man she considers her brother. 

“Hubert…” Byleth practically bounces on the ball of her right foot in either agitation or excitement. “I really want to hug you right now.” 

Helplessly, he glances towards Edelgard, who just tilts her head in amusement. “My Lady…” 

“I would suggest indulging her, Hubert.” 

“Is that an order?” 

Edelgard grins. “If it makes you feel better about it, then yes.” 

Grumbling under his breath, Hubert lets go of both their hands then opens his arms to Byleth, who eagerly embraces him. Despite rolling his eyes, the faintest edges of a smile wax themselves across his mouth, and suddenly he reaches out and pulls Edelgard into the hug as well. 

“Apologies Your Majesty, but I felt it was appropriate.” 

Only humming in approval, Edelgard nods, letting Byleth adjust and tighten her hold so she has her arms around them both. It’s incredibly comfortable, though they do break it off before long, not wanting to potentially distress Hubert any further. 

“Of all the people in the world that would be my _sisters_ ,” he mutters as he adjusts his clothing back to proper form, “it had to be the two of you.” 

“Hubert, that sounds an awful lot like a complaint,” Edelgard notes. 

“Me, complain? Perish the thought, Your Majesty.” 

Byleth giggles, imagining to herself what her father would say of the people whose lives she’s become so thoroughly entangled in. _I think… I think you would be proud of me._ Smiling at her obvious happiness, Edelgard presses a quick kiss to her cheek, then catches Byleth’s hand again. 

Neither miss the wry smile of his own that Hubert gives. 

—

Dorothea and Ferdinand are already waiting for them in the reception hall by the time they arrive together. 

“There you are,” the songstress exclaims, a hand on her hip. “Ferdie and I were getting worried.” 

Instead of responding, Byleth marches over and throws her arms around Dorothea, almost lifting her up off the floor.

“Whoa, Professor!” Dorothea yelps in surprise, but she returns the hug with equal enthusiasm. “Is something wrong?” 

“No,” Byleth responds into the brown hair draped over the other woman’s shoulder. “I’m just grateful that you’re here with us, and that I’m here with all of you.” 

Even though the Black Eagles were still partially scattered, she held on to the hope that one by one, they could find their way back to each other. The war looming in the background was always a terrifying prospect, but each day brought a new sense of confidence and purpose. 

_Slowly but surely, I’m finding my place here._

“You’re such a sweetheart,” Dorothea tells her, running a hand up the professor’s back. She then takes the opportunity to slip her fingers over the top of Byleth’s collar and pull the fabric down, revealing the patchwork of soft bruises on her neck. “Well now, looks like you and our emperor were having fun again last night.” 

“Thea!” Edelgard growls out, clearly not thrilled about having the intimate aspects of her relationship publicly broadcasted. “You’ve always had an overactive imagination, especially when it comes to other people’s _private affairs_ ,” she warns.

But Dorothea was never one to be deterred, least of all by the most powerful woman this side of the Oghma Mountains. “And I suppose I _imagined_ the love-bites you’ve been leaving on the Professor’s neck for the last week?” 

Edelgard’s eyes briefly catch Byleth’s, and both blush. Laughing, Dorothea tries to wrap an arm around the increasingly flustered emperor. 

“Oh, good for you Edie! I could have sworn it would be the other way around.” 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Edelgard complains as she shrugs the diplomat off. “Don’t make me pull rank.” 

“Like you did with your dear, _dear_ teacher?”

As Edelgard continues to deflect, Byleth looks over to Ferdinand, who appears to want to say something. But before he can, Hubert steps up, places a firm hand on his waist, and then claims him with a full kiss. 

Eyes growing wide, it takes all of two seconds before he closes them, leaning into it with his own passionate tempo. Byleth can hear Dorothea and Edelgard stop their teasing and arguing so they can watch with her. 

“Hubert…” Ferdinand eventually manages to say breathlessly when they stop, face as red as his ginger locks. “Not that I mind, but… what’s going on?” 

“Nothing,” the minister assures him. “Just reminding myself of what’s important.” 

“Oh goodness,” Dorothea whispers. “When did _Hubert_ of all people become such a romantic?” 

Grinning sheepishly, Ferdinand puts a hand behind his head as he tries to ward off everyone’s stares. Hubert doesn’t appear embarrassed in the slightest, smirking openly. When his visible eye meets Byleth’s, he even has the flippancy to _wink_ , causing her to giggle. It seemed that when it came to Ferdinand von Aegir, he was willing to break quite a few of his own carefully constructed rules. 

And in a way, the same was true for her. She knows, almost as a fact, that six months ago he might very well have hurt her for the audacity of trying to claim him as family, even with Edelgard present. 

After a brief period of silence Edelgard walks forward, choosing a place on the steps of the grand reception hall so she stands taller. 

“Ahem,” she calls out loudly, drawing the attention of the gathered former classmates. “As grateful as I am for this levity, we are less than an hour away from receiving the first delegation from Brigid in years.” 

Dorothea nods, confidence sketched across her features. 

“I’ve asked you all to attend so that you can represent the Empire and showcase what makes us strong; the power of our ideals to shape a new world for everyone, and the courage of our people to achieve this better future.” 

Then she smiles. “But that being said… I hope we can also take this opportunity to welcome an old friend, whom I know quite a few of us haven’t seen in a very long time.” Her gaze turns to Byleth. “And I’d like us to all be on our best behavior; I would rather we not cause a diplomatic incident of any kind.” 

_I would not!_ Byleth huffs inside her head, reasonably sure she could avoid doing that. _Not on purpose anyway._

She doesn’t fail to notice the teasing sparkle in Edelgard’s eyes, and concedes this to her without argument. There would be time for her to get even later, especially with how easy it was to fluster the emperor. 

Though she does wonder about her own increasing ease at blushing as well. _I never used to… is there something different about me?_

It wasn’t exactly an unwelcome change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not intend for the chapter to exist, but once it invaded itself into my mind, the idea refused to leave. Can't tell if I'm nervous/excited, but all I know is that I love soft Hubert von Vestra. 
> 
> I've had this story tagged with "Byleth likes to give hugs" since chapter 1, and it is paying off dividends now. My thought was that for someone who always had difficulty expressing themselves growing up, physical affection was an easy way to communicate it to people (mostly Jeralt until she came to Garreg Mach.)


	21. The Once and Future Queen

Of all the Black Eagles she’s reunited with since her return to the land of the living, Byleth isn’t sure which have changed the most; all have grown so much, taking on new challenges and responsibilities in ways that made her immensely proud. 

Their appearances are easier to mentally discern, from their haircuts - or lack thereof - to new and different manners of dress. And yet they were still the same students she remembered, all the while making Byleth feel like the one frozen in time. 

So now, watching as Edelgard steps forward to welcome her, Byleth realizes she almost didn’t recognize Petra at all. 

Brigid’s princess had always carried herself with a hunter’s wariness, walking on the razor’s edge between her country and Fódlan. Humble and never arrogant, she took her unfortunate situation in stride, not defeat. Where others saw her as a hostage to be pitied, she seized full advantage of her predicament, using her time at the Officer’s Academy to learn and train for the betterment of her people. Half a decade later, she enters the royal palace with the confidence befitting that of an equal among Emperors. 

Her magenta hair, once kept in a single tall braid, now flows over her shoulders and along her back like a river. The uniform of the Academy is long gone, having been exchanged for what Byleth assumes is traditional Brigid clothing of dyed animal hides and warm-looking furs, accented with colorful beads and gemstone jewelry. 

In a word, Petra radiates _pride._

“Your Majesty,” Petra greets the emperor, placing a hand across her chest in a salute and bowing slightly. Her eyes wander to everyone in the reception hall, widening when she sees Byleth. There’s a small smile, but she keeps her attention focused on the one in front of her. 

“Your Highness,” Edelgard replies, returning the gesture. 

Both affix their gazes firmly on the other, and even from her place at the side Byleth can feel genuine tension running between the two rulers. Whatever had occurred in the last five years… it hadn’t been without its own rough patches. 

Yet Petra still takes her arms and carefully wraps them around Edelgard, hugging her closely. Surprised, Edelgard blinks for a moment then copies the motion, head resting on the other woman’s shoulder. 

“I am liking the horns,” Petra remarks, taping one with the tip of her finger when they pull apart. “They are very regal.” 

Chuckling, Edelgard smiles. “And it seems returning home has been good for you, Petra.”

“Yes… I had been missing Brigid so much that it hurt my heart like a wound.” 

“Then I cannot thank you enough for deciding to come back here with us. It can’t have been an easy decision to make.” 

“It wasn’t,” Petra acknowledges. Her hand reaches up and squeezes Edelgard’s upper arm. “But I remember how kind you were always being to me… and how we promised to be doing better between our homelands.”

In that moment, Byleth swears she can see the emperor’s eyes take on an element of shock in response. Then her own hand replicates the same action. 

“Thank you, Petra. Your faith in me… I swear that it won’t be misplaced.” 

“I will be holding you to that, Edelgard.” 

Breaking away, Petra sets her sights on the small assembly of her old classmates. Immediately she sweeps Dorothea in a massive embrace, practically picking her up.

“Dorothea, I have been missing you so much!” Petra lets out as she spins around, the two giggling together. 

“Easy there Petra!” But the songstress doesn’t sound too upset once she’s back on her feet. “It’s only been a month since I last saw you.” 

“And I have been missing you all the same,” the princess retorts. 

Humming with evident happiness, Dorothea blushes - a rarity in her case. “Honestly…you are just too sweet sometimes.”

“As sweet as you are deserving, my Thea.” 

Even Hubert can’t avoid an upwards quirk of his lips at their display. _I don’t know what’s going on between them… but I hope the two are happy. Goddess knows that Dorothea has earned something genuine._

Next up is Ferdinand, whom Petra also greets with an embrace, both pounding each other on the back. Sweeping his hair to the side, he grins with noble joy. 

“It’s wonderful to have you back with us after so long… It really hasn’t been the same otherwise.” 

“You are being kind, Ferdinand,” Petra smiles. “But I was under the impression _you_ had been leaving as well.” 

He acknowledges that with a guilty nod. “Er, yes, a few years ago… but Edelgard and the Professor got me out of a tough spot, so I came back to finish what I started.” 

“I am happy to hear that.” Petra tilts her head. “Are you and Hubert still…” 

Ferdinand blushes, looking over to his lover. “Er, yes, we are.”

“And is he treating you well?” The question causes Hubert to raise an eyebrow, but Ferdinand laughs at the audacity. 

“He is an utter gentleman in my company.” Turning to the minister, he beams with open affection. “And please don’t try to deny it. Your reputation will survive.” 

“Not when you insist on exposing me as so soft-hearted,” he mutters. 

Grinning, Petra takes that as an opportunity to make her way over to him, and Hubert grimaces in anticipation of a hug. But instead she holds out a hand, and Byleth watches as her brother shakes it with very apparent relief. 

“It is good to see you again, Hubert.” 

“Likewise, Petra.” 

Satisfied with that exchange, she moves on to the last person left to greet, and Byleth feels a shiver of anticipation. She debates rushing over to her student, or perhaps meeting her halfway, or maybe… 

Any thoughts she had were immediately dispelled when a vaguely Petra-shaped blur crashes into her and tackles them both to the floor. 

“Professor!”

—

“… And this is where the blade entered,” Byleth finishes, her shirt rolled up to the midriff. 

Leaning forward, Petra traces the red-white scar with a finger, intrigued. Everyone else wore varying expressions, ranging from Hubert’s boredom to Dorothea’s open staring. Ferdinand averted his gaze politely, while Edelgard looked plainly uncomfortable. 

“That is an impressing - I mean impressive strike,” Petra acknowledges. “Very clean.” 

“Agreed. It barely hurt.” 

“Well, I’m glad the two of you are awe-struck by the means in which I took her captive,” Edelgard grumbles. 

“I’m not complaining,” Byleth replies, pulling her shirt back down. “You missed all my major internal organs. That is impressive.” 

“Yes,” Petra agrees. “Edelgard is an excellent hostage taker.”

Dorothea snorts in amusement, Hubert chuckling under his breath. 

With an expression flickering between irritation and doomed resignation, Edelgard just sighs. “May we please change the topic? I don’t exactly like to be reminded of how I hurt someone I care so much for.” 

Byleth and Petra exchange guilty glances. 

“El… I’m sorry,” Byleth replies. _I forgot to think how she feels about my teasing…_

“Yes, I had not meant to poke fun.” Petra folds her hands together, looking serious. “I am thinking that you and the Professor share a strong bond to overcome such… violent disagreement.” 

That causes Edelgard to blink as she processes the praise. “I… I certainly think so.”

Without a word, Byleth reaches over and takes her partner’s hand, rubbing gentle assurances onto her knuckles that indicated she too felt that way. Petra watches with interest. 

“So it is true then…” She smiles. “The two of you are romantical!” 

Flushing red, Byleth grins in the affirmative, but Edelgard narrows her eyes defensively. “You’ve been hearing gossip?” 

“Yes!” Petra confirms cheerily. “I have been receiving stories of the Emperor and her lover. Like how you danced together before kissing! Everyone on Brigid was hearing that.” 

_The Emperor’s lover, huh?_ Byleth saves a small part of that smile for herself. Though time had passed differently for her, her own life had changed so much in what felt like only the span of a year. To think that she was now in a relationship with _Edelgard_ still never failed to elicit a shiver of positive disbelief.

“As I told you, everyone in the Empire and beyond is talking about the woman who stole the Flame Emperor’s heart,” Dorothea reminds them in a singsonging voice. 

“Ah yes, the so-called _Prisoner Knight_.” Hubert can’t help but smirk. “You have become quite famous, Professor.” 

_It’s a lot better than the ‘Enlightened One’._

Petra scratches her head. “I am not having understanding. The Professor is neither a current prisoner or a knight. Why call her this?” 

“Well Petra, that’s because it helps convey who is in char-” 

“Because people can’t seem to mind their own business,” Edelgard interrupts Dorothea before she could inevitably provide some provocative answer. “Our relationship need hardly be such a source of conjecture.” 

“I am not meaning offense,” Petra states. “It is… I am simply happy to see the two of you without conflict.” 

_We’ve been getting that a lot,_ Byleth thinks. She feels a twinge in her stomach at the thought of Edelgard having to endure five years of presumed animosity, and a fluttering in her chest knowing things would never be that awful again. 

“That still doesn’t make it okay,” Edelgard mutters, but she can’t fully hide the smile on her face. “And besides, it’s been years since we’ve seen you too, Petra.” 

Byleth nods, remembering what Dorothea had told them. “Is your grandfather doing better?” 

“Yes, much better!” Petra leans forward excitedly. “He is back in good health.” Then her voice drops. “I am… relieved. I am needing to be queen one day, but… I do not want it like that.” 

_I understand that too well._ Rather morbidly Byleth reflects on the fact that everyone here was without their own fathers, herself included. 

“I’m happy for you,” she says. “I would very much like to meet him one day.” 

Petra grins at the idea. “Yes, you must be coming with me to Brigid! And not just the Professor and Thea, but Ferdinand, Hubert and Edelgard too!” 

“Perhaps once we have finished negotiating its independence,” Edelgard replies with a more serious air. “I would consider it inappropriate otherwise.”

“That I can agree with,” Ferdinand says as well. “The Empire is currently occupying your home, after all…” 

“Yes, then that is being best. I would rather introduce you to Brigid as equals.” Petra turns to Byleth. “My grandfather is very much is wanting to meet the teacher who trained me.” 

“I’m hardly a professor these days…” _I’m not even sure what I would call myself anymore._

“More of a propaganda piece,” Hubert observes. 

“Pro-po-ganda?” Petra confusedly sounds the word out, unsure of its meaning. 

Sighing, Byleth just shakes her head. “He means that I’m _technically_ the highest ranked member of the Church within the Empire.” 

“Hmmm… I am seeing.” Tapping a finger to her chin, Petra’s eyes light up with the spark of a new idea. “Maybe… maybe you could be our professor again, just for today. I would very much like to show you how I have grown!” 

That causes Byleth to perk up, her old teaching instincts kicking in. “I’d love to see what you’ve learned.” Then she finds herself turning to Edelgard. “If I’m allowed to, that is.” 

An eyebrow is raised. “Byleth, we’ve talked about this. You’re not a prisoner anymore.” 

“Oh, right.” _I keep forgetting._ Sheepishly, she rubs the back of her neck. It had been a week since their discussion about those lingering dredges, and though Byleth felt she was making progress, it was still easy to slip back into old habits. 

“Then it is settled!” Petra claps her hands together. “You will see the techniques of Brigid I have been learning.” 

Edelgard can’t help but smile at the familiar scene. 

—

Petra does not hold back. 

The full weight of her strikes crash against the wooden sword, forcing Byleth to plant herself firmly in the downtrodden dirt and swirling dust of the training yard. She lashes out, hoping to drive the princess into a defensive position. 

It works, but just barely. 

In the five long years since she had last seen her, Petra’s fighting style had evolved into something wholly unique; a masterful fusion of the best that both Fódlan and Brigid had to offer. Managing to weave the two together, her body moves like a snake while striking like a lion, twin swords flashing through the air in a dance of their own. 

Byleth is impressed, and feels as though she might learn something from her student. _How many times now will they surprise me? How often will I feel the sting of the years I’ve lost?_

Ducking out of the way of a swing, Petra leaps backwards, grinning wildly. “Professor, I was having hope that I might beat you, but this is a challenge!” 

“She’s clearly out of practice,” Hubert dourly remarks from the viewing benches. “The occasional sparring session with Her Majesty is poor compensation for real combat.” 

“And I think both are evenly matched,” Ferdinand counters. Then his voice lowers, “Though… who are we cheering for?” 

Apparently Dorothea doesn’t have any such doubts, shouting words of encouragement towards Petra. 

Ignoring them, Byleth briefly glances to the side and meets Edelgard’s eyes. The emperor smiles, which is all the encouragement she needs. The fact that this was merely a demonstration became irrelevant. _I cannot lose in front of El._

If she was using the Sword of the Creator, then Byleth would have taken advantage of its distance to punish Petra for constantly darting back and forth out of range. So instead she presses forward, pushing her former student back with aggressive strikes.

Just as she predicted, Petra alters her form to compensate, using both swords to block Byleth’s blade. Forcing her onto the defensive removes any momentum she might have gained, and Byleth takes full advantage of that fact. 

“You are not making this easy for me, Professor.” 

“No… I’d consider myself a poor teacher if I could be bested so easily,” Byleth retorts with an exhausted smile. “Especially by one of my old students.” 

“Ah, but you are not understanding…” Petra raises one of her swords, the other pointed directly at her. “One day, the pupil must always be surpassing the master.” 

And then she charges, bringing the raised blade down while striking directly with the other. Byleth blocks the first, then pivots her body to move past the second. In that same instant, she swings her own sword out from underneath Petra’s, aiming straight for the princess’s neck. 

The wood stops directly before what steel would make a killing blow. 

There’s an excited squeak from the sidelines, followed by Edelgard coughing to cover it up. She still can’t hide the proud smirk from behind her hand. 

Petra drops both of her swords, laughing. “You are indeed winning, Professor.” 

Joining in on the laughter, Byleth drops her own blade. “But that was too close for comfort. You really had me there a few times.” 

“That is flattering, but in battle, _close_ is still dead.” 

“Then we should consider ourselves fortunate not to be facing her in battle,” Hubert remarks as the rest walk up to them. “Though I never would have allowed that in the first place.”

“Hmmm… so if I had decided to leave after Edelgard freed me…” 

“… I would have struck you dead before you were even out of Enbarr,” Hubert grimly confirms. Everyone else looks at him with horrified expressions, to which he just shrugs. “What? Not everyone has the luxury of being sentimental.” 

But Byleth can only smile, patting her brother on the back. “You’re all heart, Hubert. Please never change.” 

“Well, appalling imagery aside…” Dorothea puts her arms around both Byleth and Petra. “Look at us! I can’t remember the last time we had this many Black Eagles in one place.” 

“Five years ago, that day in the Holy Tomb,” Ferdinand muses, then pales when he looks to Edelgard. “Err, I don’t mean to…” 

She just shakes her head. “It’s fine. I don’t expect you all to walk on eggshells about what I’ve done. Besides… I’m grateful that so many of you have come back,” she admits. 

Ferdinand nods with a smile. “It’s almost too good to be true, no? I can only hope that the others are in fine health as well.” 

_Bernadetta… Linhardt… Caspar…_ Byleth misses them dearly. _One of these days I will reunite with all of you._

“As do I,” Edelgard agrees. “But this is all irrelevant. Petra, your skill has grown tremendously, and you could give anyone here absolute hell on the battlefield.” 

“That is kind of you to say.” The princess bows her head in thanks. 

“Speaking of, I have an idea of my own,” Ferdinand pipes up. “It has been a long time since we have sparred together, Edelgard. What say you?” 

She looks at him with partially irritated surprise. “You’re challenging me to a duel? I thought we had moved on from these pointless disputes.” 

Raising a hand in defense, Ferdinand offers a disarming grin. “Not as a test of superiority, but just a competition between friends.” 

“Oh.” Edelgard lets herself smile. “In that case I do accept, if only to prove how effective my teacher’s training has been.” 

Byleth feels proud to hear that. 

“Wonderful!” Ferdinand raises a clenched hand in triumph. “You will all bear witness to the true skill of a noble.” 

“ _Former_ noble,” Hubert corrects, but rather than be upset, Ferdinand merely chuckles.

“Now now my love, I hope it’s understood that you will be rooting for me,” he teasingly threatens, much to the minister’s mortification. Both Petra and Dorothea share very amused expressions at the sight. 

Hubert grumbles, but does eventually sigh, then bows to Edelgard. “My apologies, Your Majesty. It appears I have been thoroughly compromised.” 

Giggling softly, Edelgard just nods. “I believe I may have been as well, Hubert.” Then she blushes as Byleth gives her a kiss for good luck. 

—

Ferdinand takes up position at one end, the grip on his spear comfortable. Byleth silently approves; too much pressure impacted one’s ability to swing and stab effectively. 

Meanwhile Edelgard faces him from the other side, twirling her own axe with ease. Her jaw is set with determination, eyes focused on her opponent. As always, she would give this her all. 

Grabbing a seat on a viewing bench, Byleth watches as Hubert and Dorothea position themselves closer for observation. Already the songstress was shouting encouragement towards Edelgard while referring to Ferdinand as a _bee_. Byleth wasn’t sure she understood that one. 

Without any sort of fanfare or ceremony, the bout begins. Ferdinand charges instantly while Edelgard grounds herself defensively, parrying his first strike with ease. 

The emperor’s retaliatory blow comes quickly, though Ferdinand quickly moves out of the way. He backs up to give himself more breathing room, but Edelgard presses his weakness and follows up with another attack. 

As they continue trading strikes, Byleth feels a presence slide into the seat next to her. 

“They are both doing well,” Petra remarks. 

“Yes, they are.” 

Edelgard deflects one of Ferdinand’s wide sweeping attacks, her gaze momentarily falling on Byleth. She quickly waves in encouragement. 

“Professor.” Petra’s voice takes on a more serious tone, and Byleth turns to give her full attention to the princess. “There is something I am needing to tell you. Tomorrow, Edelgard will be asking me to join Brigid with the war effort… and I will be accepting.” 

_…The war…_ Byleth has to bite back her tongue, feeling a pressure start to feel in her chest. As someone that was decidedly neutral in the conflict, she felt it wasn’t her place to speak. And yet the idea of one of her students choosing to join sent rivets of fear up and down her spine. 

Had she remained with the Church, would they eventually have met on the battlefield?

“What… what made you decide that?” Byleth finally manages to say. 

“I will be queen of Brigid soon,” Petra explains. “And I must look out for the interests of my people.” 

“By going to war?” Byleth doesn’t want to undermine Edelgard, but the words come out before she’s even realized it. 

Only smiling, Petra reaches out and takes Byleth’s hand, turning the palm upwards. Slowly, she traces unfamiliar patterns across her skin in what she assumes is a Brigidali custom. 

“Professor…” She doesn’t stop the movement of her hand and fingers. “My people are not free. When I was young, my father invaded the Empire with Dagda… and lost. As punishment we were made to be vassals, and I was taking - taken away.” 

She turns Byleth’s hand over, starting on the spaces between her knuckles, running down each finger in turn. 

“As queen, it will be falling to me to do all that I can for them. And to do this, I must be making a difficult decision. For the Empire, against the Empire… all will spill our blood.” 

Petra trades hands, starting again on the other palm. Byleth doesn’t protest, oddly mesmerized by the sensation. 

“The goddess is protecting those of Fódlan, but not outside her. The Kingdom was slaughtering the people of Duscar… and the Alliance calls those of Almyra brutes and savages. Is there hope for a nation such as mine, in a land where we hate each other?” 

Byleth doesn’t know; this is all truly well beyond her scope. 

“So I have been thinking… to lie in a bed of snakes is dangerous… but not when you are knowing the largest snake of all.” Petra smiles knowingly. “And Edelgard… I am thinking she is not as much a viper as she is pretending to be.” 

The princess’s fingers come to rest on the cusp of Byleth’s wrists, and she gives them one final tap before withdrawing her hands. 

Before she can say anything in turn, a yell echoes through the training yard and both turn to see Edelgard laying flat on her back, a triumphant Ferdinand standing over her. There’s a moment where he appears to contemplate some sort of victory speech, but instead he holds out a hand, which she takes and uses to rise back to her feet. 

“Ugh…” Edelgard grunts, rolling her shoulders. “I must admit, that was well fought.” 

“I will accept that as a concession,” Ferdinand grins. “Though I should tell you that I’ve been practicing extensively with Ladislava.” 

Huffing quietly, Edelgard narrows her eyes in slight displeasure, but then sticks out her hand. Ferdinand reaches over and they shake on it. 

“Just don’t let it get to your head.” But even Byleth can tell the emperor has enjoyed herself. When she turns to look, the professor flashes her a proud smile and a thumbs-up. 

As Hubert and Dorothea crowd around the two duelists, Petra leans forward and rests her elbows on her knees, supporting her head in both hands. For some reason Byleth can’t explain, she appears so… vulnerable. 

“Thea… she was not happy to hear my decision,” the princess says suddenly. “She is understanding my reasons, but fighting… that is not something easily agreed upon.” 

Examining her closely, Byleth does wonder how much of the songstress’s more positive emotions were carefully crafted to obscure the underlying tension she felt. 

“You have always possessed a strong sense of purpose,” Byleth tells Petra. “It isn’t a surprise to me that you’ve stepped up and taken responsibility.” 

She smiles. “And what of you, Professor? Do you feel as though you have a purpose here?” 

_Do I?_ Byleth held no regrets about her decision to pursue and court Edelgard. More than anything, that felt like a proper culmination of her efforts. But the rest… 

“I don’t know,” she admits. “It’s my choice not to join the war, and I do stand by it… but I’m not a teacher, a soldier, or even a prisoner anymore… so what does that make me?” 

Byleth pulls her legs closer to herself, hugging the top of her knees tightly. 

“I am thinking,” Petra muses after a moments thought, “that only you can be answering that.”

_I wish I were as strong and certain as you._ Not for the first time, Byleth feels as though she’s scrambling behind everyone else, desperate to keep up. It had been so much easier when she never had a choice at all. 

_If I had made a different decision five years ago, would I still feel this way?_

Then there’s a hand on her shoulder, and Petra motions to their friends. “We should be joining them, or else they might think we are having rudeness.” 

“Right.” Rising to her feet, Byleth takes two steps before she suddenly finds herself in a tight hug with the princess of Brigid. 

“We will be okay,” Petra says into her shoulder, voice muffled. 

Grateful, Byleth returns the embrace. “I know… just take care of yourself, please?”

_Because I can’t anymore._

But for as much as she thinks that, Byleth knows it wasn’t that simple. 

_Can’t, or won’t?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, it's been far longer than I had expected it to be. Truth be told, I got a little burned out (since this is the longest anything I've ever written), and decided to take a small break. But now this story is back! 
> 
> Anyway, with Petra's return, we are entering into what I'm calling the 'war phase'. Which, if this story's Byleth is any indication, is a bit of a misnomer. But you'll have to wait and see on that. 
> 
> I very much hope that there is still interest in me bringing this work to a proper conclusion. The positive reception it has received over the long months has been kinda scary, and I don't want to disappoint. XD


	22. Cause and Effect

Byleth wakes up to an empty bed and the sun glaring down on her.

She can already tell it was late in the morning, closer to the afternoon. That meant she had overslept by quite a lot.

Her mouth felt incredibly dry, and she notices a glass of water on the nightstand at her side of the bed. She gratefully takes several sips, then realizes there was a piece of paper next to it.

_My starlight,_

_I hope this note finds you with a pleasant morning. Ordinarily I would have awoken you, but you seemed so peaceful and at ease that I couldn’t bear myself to do it._

_My day will be mostly occupied by meeting after meeting, As essential as they are to the running of a nation, I cannot help but imagine myself spending time with you instead. By that, I mean to say that you are always in my thoughts._

_Though we haven’t talked about it, I can tell that the last week hasn’t been easy for you. I won’t pretend to know what’s on your mind, but I can promise to be there when you need it._

_I ask that you please focus on yourself today. As much as I’d like to make that an order, I know you have a penchant for disobedience. You’ve always put others above yourself, a trait I find admirable, but also worrying. So please, if you need a reason, at least do it for me._

_Yours,_

_Edelgard von Hresvelg_

Byleth closes her eyes and sighs. _Of course._ Why did her partner have to be so attentive and understanding?

She wasn’t entirely wrong either. The last week, no, _month_ , had been difficult. Infuriatingly so. That wasn’t how things were supposed to be, she tells herself. Being in the first relationship of her life, no longer a technical prisoner to her best friend, and seeing more of the Black Eagles than ever.

So then why did the weight on her chest only feel heavier?

Debating if she should just remain in bed longer, Byleth finds herself motivated by the sudden rumbling of her stomach. _I’ve missed breakfast._ It takes a bit of effort to sit up and pull away the blankets, but eventually she manages.

She throws on a loose ensemble of clothing, not particularly caring to coordinate or even look presentable. The palace kitchens were already done serving until later for lunch, but one of the cooks whom she was on friendly terms with sneaks her a plate of fruit and sandwiches.

As Byleth eats, she thinks over what to do for the day. Edelgard had told her to focus on herself, but she really doesn’t even know what that means. _What did I used to do with my spare time?_ When she had been injured that usually was reading or gardening; after healing, that included combat practice.

But now…

That just didn’t feel right. Her old students, her _friends_ , were busy governing an empire and planning a war. _And yet here I am, contributing what exactly?_

Everyone else operated in an overlapping array of circles and responsibilities, from internal governance to foreign affairs and the ever present military councils. Some stuck to their routes; Dorothea was never seen in the war chambers, while Petra had no contribution to domestic policy. Ferdinand insisted on being everywhere Hubert and Edelgard were, and Byleth… she was nowhere.

Sure, she would still offer lessons and training to those who asked for it, and while those sessions did help ease the sensation of burden she experienced, it didn’t feel like enough.

Her feet drag along the floor as she walks to the training yard. Taking a wooden sword from the equipment rack, she gets to work on her form stances.

Up, outwards, straight, then down. Reset. Up, outwards, straight, then down. Reset. Alternate stance. Down, straight, outwards, then up. Reset. Down, straight, outwards, then up. Reset.

Ordinarily the motions would drive the sword through the air with grace and power. But today her actions are slow and sluggish, uncharacteristically so. Frustrated, Byleth attempts to lash out at a training dummy, but can hardly muster the energy to even put a dent in it. The Ashen Demon would have been ashamed, she thinks.

She fares no better in the garden. Mindlessly pulling on weeds and applying fertilizer helped get her mind off the relative nothing that occupied it, but it wasn’t long before she felt a familiar pulsing sensation behind her skull.

All she really wants to do is go back to sleep.

Before she even realizes it, Byleth finds herself in front of the door to her small bedroom. Ever since she and Edelgard had begun to share a bed it served as more of a closet for her clothing, and nothing else.

Opening the dresser, she takes out her father’s diary and sits down on the edge of the bed, flipping through pages at random. Most of the entries were dull, consisting of observations about the weather and the monastery.

Eventually she came across a few dates where Jeralt had described his encounters with a rather outgoing nun, and much to Byleth’s amusement, it turned out that Sitri had been the one to pursue him first.

_We have that in common at least._

Byleth then grabs her mother’s ring as well, adding it to the cord-strung cell key she still wore around her neck. All of her friends had given her odd looks when she would explain its meaning - except for Hubert - but she still kept it as a memento. Now she tucks both the key and ring under her shirt.

Clutching the diary to her chest, Byleth lays down and closes her eyes. She wishes that she were out there with everyone else, a part of it all. That things were like they used to be, when she was their professor and mentor, their guide.

Not whatever mess she had become.

—

When she finally manages to drag herself out of bed before napping the entire day, Byleth is almost immediately waylaid by a certain former colleague of hers.

“Well now Byleth, you look rather out of it,” Manuela remarks. She was dressed for an apparent outing, tall leather boots alongside a more subtle commoners tunic and coat. A medical bag was slung over one shoulder, bearing the symbol of her office - a caduceus adorned by two eagles.

“I suppose so,” she admits. “Going somewhere?”

Manuela hums a little tune under her breath in the affirmative. “It’s Saturday, meaning I have plans today.”

“A date?” Though Byleth wasn’t sure what type of date would require a medical bag. Maybe she would prefer ignorance on that matter.

But the former diva just laughs. “No, something a little more important.” Then she smiles and gestures with a hand. “Would you like to come with? I could use some help.”

_I don’t even know what or where._ “Why me?”

“Because you look bored and can follow instructions,” Manuela replies cheerfully. “Truthfully, you’re rather overqualified, but I can’t be choosy about my assistants these days.”

“I…” Byleth almost finds herself at a loss. The idea of going out the palace without Edelgard still brought forth feelings of unease and discomfort. But she had also promised to work towards fixing that. “Okay then. I’ll do what I can.” _Though I still don’t know for what._

“Wonderful!” And just like that, Byleth suspects that Manuela knew of her doubts all along.

Evidently she wasn’t the only person aware of this little trip, and the two are hailed at the palace entrance by an additional member. Her traditional clothing and magenta hair covered in a traveling cloak, the newcomer looks far more eager than Byleth feels.

“Professor!” Petra grabs her by the hand and squeezes it as part of her greeting. Then she turns to Manuela. “And also Professor!”

Laughing, Manuela waves away the title. “Please dear, I was never your teacher. My name will do fine, or Miss Casagranda if you’re feeling polite.”

“You’re coming with us, Petra?” Byleth now really suspects that her sudden recruitment wasn’t mere happenstance.

She nods affirmatively. “I have been wanting to see more of Enbarr for a while, but Dorothea is being busy when I have free time. So I’m joining you and Miss Casagranda.”

“I see.” Having another friend with her did make Byleth feel better, so she smiles in return. “Has Manuela actually told you what we are doing?”

“Nope!” The princess doesn’t look at all fazed by it.

Manuela gives Byleth an amused look. “Not a fan of surprises, huh?” She taps the side of her bag. “I’m just making a house call.”

That only raises more questions, but Byleth doesn’t feel like objecting any further and follows the two women out the palace, shivering slightly when they leave the grounds completely.

She knew that her dependence on Edelgard’s company would need to be slowly modified with trips like this, but that would take time and persistence. _Progress, at least._

The walk into Enbarr was quiet and uneventful, Manuela singing softly under her breath for most of it. A few higher-class citizens apparently recognize her, but she pays them no mind, and eventually they cross over into a less wealthy part of the city.

It was a different story for Petra, who took in the sights and sounds like a very obvious tourist - evidently her stay in Adrestia prior to attending Garreg Mach didn’t include any visits into the city itself.

And just as much as she stares at everything, the people stare back. Even with her cloak, the hue of Petra’s skin and the marks on her arm firmly identify her as distinctly foreign. An oddity.

Almost defensively, Byleth takes up a protective position next to her as they walk, staring down anyone she views as potential troublemakers. In spite of losing her edge she still feels capable of projecting the Ashen Demon, and it works to quietly give Petra some space.

Enbarr itself changes around them, a far cry from the opulence of the palace and the royal district. It wasn’t unfamiliar for Byleth; she and Jeralt had often stayed in the less fortunate districts of the towns and cities they traveled to in order to save money.

Even having been gone for five years, she could tell that things were difficult for everyone. With the war still raging resources were scarce, and she was starting realize just how easy it had been for her.

“Here we are,” Manuela eventually says, stopping in front of a slightly dilapidated house smushed between others like it. She knocks on the door, and they are greeted by a young woman with a small girl hiding behind her legs.

“H-hello?” She seems rather timid despite her age; if anything, the child appears more put together, staring with wide yet determined eyes.

“Hello dear,” Manuela greets her sweetly, putting on her most welcoming expression. “You wouldn’t happen to be Anika Drache, would you?”

“I a-am…”

Smiling encouragingly, the physician nods. “Well, I’m a doctor with the royal medical service, and I’m here because your husband asked me to check in on your daughter.”

“Ian did?”

“He did, yes.” Reaching into her bag, Manuela pulls out a gold badge, emblazoned with the symbol of her office. Anika takes it and runs a hand over the surface before giving it back.

“C-can you help her?” she gestures to the girl.

Manuela kneels down, locking eyes firmly with the younger one. She smiles again. “Hello there. I bet you’re Katja! Your father has told me all about you.”

She stares in surprise, then clasps her mother’s leg harder. “Mommy told me not to talk with strangers.”

“Oh Katja…” But Manuela just laughs.

“That’s very smart of you!” She points to herself. “My name is Doctor Manuela. Can you say that?”

“Hmmm…” The little girl appears to think it over. “Man-well-a.”

The woman in question nods approvingly. “Good! And since you know my name and I know yours, does that make us strangers?”

It takes a second, but eventually Katja shakes her head. “No!” Her mother smiles faintly in relief.

“Great!” Manuela points to the green-haired woman next to her. “This is Byleth, and she’s one of my assistants today. And this is Petra, who has come from far away to meet people here in Enbarr.” The princess gives a little wave in greeting.

“Did daddy send you?” Katja asks.

“He did,” she confirms. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Katja looks up at Anika, who squeezes her hand reassuringly.

“I get sleepy.”

Stepping forward, Anika looks more at ease now, and she lifts Katja up and into her arms. “It’s… it’s a little more complicated, Miss Manuela.” She ruffles her daughter’s hair, who gives a big yawn in response. “She sleeps too much, especially for someone her age.”

“And does she sleep during the day, even after getting a full night’s rest?”

“Y-yes. Is that bad?”

Manuela hefts her bag more tightly across her shoulder. “I can’t say for certain yet. May we come in, Mrs. Drache?”

“I… I don’t have any money to pay you,” Anika says ashamedly, staring down at her feet.

“Good thing I’m not charging you then.” Motioning towards Byleth and Petra, the royal physician steps past the mother and into the house as if the matter were now settled.

—

“Here y-you go, Miss Byleth.”

She accepts the cup of tea from Anika, nodding in thanks. They were situated in her small living room, gathered around a table as Manuela examines Katja. The little girl was thoroughly engrossed in a clapping game with Petra, so much so that she completely ignores the white magic being used to scan her.

“One… two… three… four - oh!” Petra’s hand misses Katja’s, and she giggles in response. “You are being much better at this than me.”

“I practice a lot with mommy,” she states very matter-of-factly. Then she shivers as Manuela’s hand hovers over her back. “That tickles!”

“Sorry, sorry,” the older woman says while she quickly finishes the motion. “I’m almost… there! All done, and weren’t you just patient with me?”

Katja beams in appreciation of the praise.

“Now then, Mrs. Drache…” Manuela looks up to meet the mother’s worried gaze. “I’ve managed to rule out any physical injuries, meaning the problem is most likely a chronic illness.”

“Is that b-better or worse?”

“Hard to say. At the very least, it means Katja’s life isn’t in immediate danger. But I’ll need to perform some more tests to narrow down the culprit.” She holds out a hand expectingly. “Byleth, would you be a dear and grab the stethoscope from my bag? It’s the instrument with a long tube that splits into two.”

She complies and locates the tool easily enough, having seen it used before. Everyone remains quiet as Manuela listens for Katja’s heart, prompting her to breathe in and out repeatedly.

“Heartbeat seems healthy…” She gives a poignant look in Byleth’s direction at this. “And no problems breathing. Tell me dear, do you feel sleepy all the time?”

“No!” Katja exclaims, but she quickly yawns right after. “Just when I… when I’m…”

“When she’s emotional,” Anika explains. “A-angry, happy, excited, sad…”

Humming, Manuela gives the little girl a reassuring pat on the head. “That must be difficult, especially as a child. You are very brave, Katja.”

“Very brave,” Petra agrees, squeezing her hand.

But Katja just shakes her head with a considerable amount of energy. “No, mommy is brave! She always takes good care of me!”

Anika’s hand shoots to cover her mouth and hide a pained smile, but her eyes radiate with grateful pride.

“Now, as for our patient here…” Manuela jots something down, then looks up to address Anika directly. “I can say with a good bit of confidence that your daughter has narcolepsy, which is a type of sleeping disorder.”

“O-oh… that sounds bad…”

“It can be, especially if untreated. That’s both the good and bad news; there’s no known cure, but the symptoms can be addressed and managed to improve her condition.”

“Nar-co-lep-see!” Katja works out the word aloud, slightly confused. “But why am I sick, Miss Man-well-a?”

“Sometimes there’s no reason, little one. People are sometimes born or acquire these things at no fault of their own.”

She’s quiet for a moment, her confusion seemingly deepening. “Does this mean the goddess hates me?”

“No!” Byleth is more surprised than anyone to hear that it was her own voice that spoke up first. She reaches over and carefully picks up Katja, placing her down on her lap. “I promise you… Sothis… the goddess has nothing to do with this.”

There’s a long stretch of silence as everyone takes in her outburst. Both Petra and Anika look completely perplexed, but Manuela seems oddly proud in her expression.

“How do you know?” Katja asks with that child-like insistence.

“I…” Realizing that she’s in a rather precarious spot, Byleth carefully considers how to answer that question. _Because I knew her_ , would probably bring on far more questions than she wanted. So she decides to go with a half-truth and semi-lie. “Because I’m with the Church of Seiros.”

The mention of the Empire’s enemy causes a flash of concern to fall over Anika’s face, but Katja was too young to understand the implication of those words.

“Then why did she let me become sick?”

Byleth hesitates again. She was hardly a theologian, and the last thing she wanted to do was offer a hollow explanation of a religion she didn’t truly follow. Knowing Sothis personally… that was magnitudes different from claiming to understand her through worship.

“The goddess… she doesn’t make bad things happen to people. Rather…”

Fortunately, Manuela comes to her rescue. “She gives you the strength to push forward when they do. The goddess helps those who help themselves, meaning…” She leans forward and gently bops Katja on the nose, eliciting a giggle from the girl. “…that if you want to fight this sickness, she will certainly do her best to help you.”

“In Brigid, we are asking the spirits of our home to guide and assist us,” Petra adds. “But we must always be taking the first step ourselves.”

“I want to get better,” Katja proclaims sternly, settling the matter.

“Then I have good news for you, because narcolepsy is treatable.” Jotting down some more on her paper, Manuela hands it to Anika. “You’ll want to make sure she maintains a consistent sleep schedule and gets regular exercise. I’m also going to prescribe her a herbal stimulant that should alleviate the symptoms.”

Taking the doctor’s note, Anika blinks in worry at the words, then back to the physician. “I… w-we can’t affor-” But Manuela cuts her off.

“I’ll make sure it gets delivered to you regularly. In a few months, I’d like you to visit me at the palace for a check-up.”

“The p-palace?”

That catches Katja’s attention, and she looks up at Byleth in excitement. “Do you live in the palace, Miss Byleth?!”

Putting a hand on top of her head to calm her, she nods. “Yes, I do. In fact, I’m… err, _friends_ with the emperor.”

Katja’s eyes widen into large orbs. “You are!?” Then a sudden thought strikes her. “But you’re with the Church! Do you also know the bishop lady?”

“Um, yes, I know Archbishop Rhea too.”

“Then you should make them stop fighting, so daddy can come home,” Katja boldly proposes, much to Anika’s apparent mortification.

“I wish it were that simple,” Byleth tries to protest, knowing full well that she, nor anyone else, had actually tried.

Crossing her arms together, Katja looks as if she very much disagrees. “But you’re friends with both! Why can’t they be friends too?”

Both Manuela and Byleth - the two people in the room that knew Edelgard and Rhea best - stare at each other with bewildered expressions. Then the physician puts a hand over her mouth in an attempt to hide a mischievous grin at the idea.

“Katja, please… don’t talk about Her M-Majesty like that,” Anika says quietly, as if afraid the three outside her family would accuse her of besmirching the emperor.

“Is your father a soldier?” The insides of Byleth’s chest tighten as she speaks, and she really wishes Edelgard was there with her.

“He’s stationed up north,” Anika explains. “B-but he was injured recently, and…”

Manuela puts a reassuring hand on the mother’s shoulder. “And he’s perfectly fine. I made sure of that.”

Sniffling slightly, Anika throws her arms around the physician and hugs her, mumbling out a long stream of thank-you’s and unnecessary apologies. Not wanting to be left out, Katja raises herself from Byleth’s lap and joins in the embrace.

Petra coos softly at the sight, and even Byleth can’t stop from smiling.

“I think you are a nice lady, Miss Manuela,” Katja exclaims. “And so is Miss Petra and Miss Byleth.”

“And I think you are being very nice to us too,” Petra says with a laugh, ruffling the little girl’s hair.

Byleth agrees, though she can’t help but feel lost in thought at what had been said. That familiar nervous pitch in the depths of her stomach like a seed, growing up to her chest… _How often am I going to feel like this? Why can’t I be brave like my students, or useful like Manuela?_

And as she watches her old professor closely, Petra reaches over and squeezes her hand gently, not wanting her to be left out either.

—

Byleth was barely back in the palace for a few minutes when Hubert stops her, expression more dour than usual.

“There you are, Byleth.” He motions towards her. “I was looking for you.”

“Hello Hubert. Good afternoon to you as well.” She really didn’t mind that her brother would often skip the polite portion of a greeting; it was somewhat implied towards the people he didn’t openly despise. Feeling drained, Byleth holds out her arms. “May I have a hug?”

He stares at her for an excruciatingly long amount of time, then sighs and allows her to embrace him. One of his hands runs soothingly up and down her back, and Byleth is rather proud of how much better he’s become at giving hugs.

“Rough day?”

“Hmmm… just grateful for family,” she replies into his shoulder.

“I see.” The sound of footsteps marches past them down the hall, and Byleth imagines the minister giving whoever it was a death glare until they left. “When you are finished, Lady Edelgard wishes to see you in the war room.”

_The war room? What could she want from me there…_ Despite her extended stay in the palace, that was the one chamber she had yet to step foot in, very much on purpose. Pulling away, she tilts her head in curiosity.

“Do you know what this is about, Hubert?”

“I do.”

“And are you going to tell me?” Byleth tries to coax out of him. “Because otherwise it sounds like I’m in trouble, and I’m struggling to figure out why.”

Hubert’s expression darkens. “No, it isn’t that…” He looks oddly reluctant, which she doesn’t know if she’s ever seen from him before. “You’ve received a letter.”

“A letter.” _That doesn’t sound too bad._

“From the Archbishop.”

_From the-_ “Oh.”

He gives her a brief flash of pity. “ _Oh_ indeed.”

Already Byleth feels her chest tightening in response, heart trying to beat faster against its long-dead carcass. _I’m not ready… I’m not…_ It had been inevitable, she thinks, ever since that public display at the Imperial Ball. That word wouldn’t travel north, even before then… it was foolish to assume otherwise.

But a part of her had always wished that this wouldn’t be the case. That she could just remain here, ignorant of the larger conflict and context. That her responsibilities wouldn’t catch up to her eventually. _Because I’m not…_

She wasn’t ready to face the consequences of her own actions.

“Would you like another hug?” Hubert blithely asks, and she does, pressing her head against his broad chest.

“I’m scared,” Byleth admits with little more than a whisper, almost lost amidst the black fabrics. “I’m scared of having to hurt the people I love.”

Surprisingly, Hubert’s hand finds its way to the top of her head, and he presses it down calmingly. “Byleth… Her Majesty and I understand the unique and precarious position you are in. The choices you have made, and the ones you will make… as your family, we will support you.”

She hugs him tighter.

“Unless of course you decide to turn against us, in which case I am duty-bound to destroy you myself.”

She loosens the hug a little.

“A jest,” he reassures her, though she very much doubts it is. Still, Byleth knows she’s worked hard to gain his trust this much over time.

“You must think I’m pathetic,” she breathes out. “Compared to how I used to be… where as now I can hardly control my emotions.”

Hubert remains silent, his hand continuing to gently stroke her scalp. Then, “Not pathetic. _Human._ ”

The word catches in her throat, and instead of a verbal response, she pulls back, leans forward on her toes, and plants a quick peck against his cheek.

“Thank you, Hubert.”

If he was at all perturbed by her actions, it doesn’t show. Instead he allows a small smile to grace his mouth. “Of course. Are you feeling better?”

“I’m still scared,” she admits, not seeing the sense in lying to the man who could look right through her.

“Good. That means you’re doing something right.”

_Am I? Has anything I’ve done been the right thing?_ But she nods in appreciation. “I guess I can’t keep putting this off.”

“It would be best not to keep Lady Edelgard waiting. I’m sure she’s just as worried.”

_She always is._ Even just thinking about her partner causes Byleth to break out in a small grin. _What have I done to deserve her?_

Catching the smile, Hubert chuckles to himself. “Her Majesty makes the same expression when she talks about you.”

“Does she talk about me a lot?”

“Almost incessantly.”

Byleth has to bite down on her lower lip to stop from smirking to herself. All of this felt like a dream sometimes, wonderful and terrifying in its entirety. How simple things might have been, had they remained as destiny demanded of them. But then again… _nothing has ever been easy between us. For better and worse._

_But we always get through it. Together_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aka “Byleth has been an emotional wreck for the last few chapters and is only realizing just how much.” Featuring soft Hubert. 
> 
> I don’t know how to write children, or religion. Please forgive the awkwardness of those scenes. 
> 
> We also stan Manuela in this house. Girl may have a drinking problem and can’t get a date, but she still manages to be a famous opera star, a freaking doctor, and the professor at a prestigious military academy. She’s my disaster queen (look up her support with Edelgard if you haven’t already.) 
> 
> My partner suffers from narcolepsy, and the hardest part of it is the cataplexy, which means that any major show of emotions (primarily stress, in her case) can trigger a narcoleptic episode. 
> 
> This is actually the first chapter that doesn’t feature a physical appearance by Edelgard, aside from the interlude. Fun fact. Anyway, thank you for reading, and as always I like to hear what you think!


	23. The Archbishop's Gambit

Neither Byleth nor Edelgard waste any time when they see each other. 

If she had been paying attention, the former professor might have noticed the interior of the war room, adorned with the single biggest collection of maps this side of Fódlan. Any free space was occupied by ceremonial weapons mounted on racks, or flags bearing the twin-headed eagle of Adrestia.

It was a space for planning death, far removed from the battlefields themselves. Only reports of troop movement and scattered miniatures on strategic outlines gave this away.

But she doesn’t see any of this, and instead crosses the distance to the room’s sole occupant. The two embrace and melt into each other’s arms.

“Byleth… I’ve missed you…” 

_I’ve missed you too_ , she wants to say back, but instead Byleth lets her lips crash against Edelgard’s, eliciting a squeak of surprise from her. 

“By-” But she quickly cuts herself off and presses forward as well, clearly not wanting to be left behind. 

Their kissing alternates between frantic and methodical, wanting to explore as much of each other as they can, but without the patience to take it slow. Byleth’s hands come to rest on Edelgard’s hips, while the emperor allows her own arms to fold themselves across the back of her lover’s neck. 

After such a long day, the taste of Edelgard’s mouth is heavenly for Byleth. Feeling emboldened, she even tries to be adventurous with her tongue, earning more than a few grunts and moans of appreciation.

“What’s gotten into you?” Edelgard tries to ask at one point, the question escaping through the small and occasional gap in their kissing. 

“I’ve wanted you all day,” she replies a little more needing than expected.

Edelgard deepens the kiss in response, explaining wordlessly just how much she wanted her too. Eventually she lets her lips rest against Byleth’s, but not before gently biting down on the lower half for emphasis. 

“I know what you’re trying to do,” she whispers. “Distracting me…” 

“Hmmm,” Byleth hums in disagreement. “Maybe I just _really_ wanted to kiss you, El.” 

“As flattering as I find that… we both know there’s something we’re avoiding.” Edelgard gestures to the central table next to them. 

Byleth notices the massive map of Fódlan carved onto the surface for the first time, the borders between each nation speckled with miniature flags. She sees the Eagle, Lion, and Stag, as well as the revered dragon - _no, the Immaculate One_ \- of the Church. There’s also a black banner she can’t quite make out, of a white eye amidst a spiral. 

And there it was, sitting on the outline of Enbarr.

The envelope itself was plain, for all the trepidation that it carried.

It looked heavy, stamped shut with the Crest of Seiros atop red wax. Inscribed on the front was her name in a familiar handwriting. _Byleth Eisner._

That draws forth stray memories she had tried to keep buried. Her hand sweeps over the parchment, fingertips scrapping the edges of the seal as she tries to focus on the present.

“I’m out of time,” Byleth remarks, mostly to herself. “I suppose this was inevitable given my actions.” 

“ _Our_ actions,” Edelgard corrects, stepping over to join her. Her hands reach out and absentmindedly adjust the lapel of Byleth’s tunic, straightening it closer to her own standards. “Ever since that night in the goddess tower we’ve been in this together, you and I.” 

Feeling a surge of gratitude, the professor presses a kiss to the bottom of Edelgard’s forehead, lifting the metal crown slightly. She enjoys the slight blush it gives her even now, and the action infuses her with confidence. 

“It’s funny, but I tried writing her a letter myself.” 

“Tried… why didn’t you?” Edelgard asks. 

Byleth thinks it over for a second, realizing there were two different explanations, each based on her current status at the time. “Well, back when I was still a prisoner of the Empire… would you have let me?” 

“No,” Edelgard replies instantly, crossing her arms together. She at least appears apologetic enough about the sternness of her response. “I gave you a lot of personal freedom, but I would have drawn the line there.” 

Unable to stop from smiling just a little bit in amusement, Byleth nods in understanding. _That part of our relationship is in the past anyway._

Her thoughts wander to the one failed attempt, when she had been unable to put the words onto paper. _How could I even try? How could I ever explain what happened between Edelgard and I?_

“After that… I was too scared to put serious effort into it.”

“Scared in what way?” But even though Edelgard asks, she seems to have an inkling of an idea. 

Byleth exhales softly. “I wanted to avoid the things that could hurt me and the people I care for… our conflict, the war, even my own choices. To acknowledge that would mean giving up the peace I had cultivated.” 

_A false armistice perhaps._

“Nobody blames you for deciding to stay neutral,” Edelgard says somewhat defensively - they both knew she had near the beginning. 

“El… you may not, but the others will. If we’re being honest, I’ve always known that choosing to remain off the battlefield would mostly benefit you, while hurting everyone else.”

Frowning, the Adrestian Emperor doesn’t deny her assertion; it had been the original plan when she captured Byleth. After a few seconds she does reach out her hand, taking that of her partner’s and squeezing it. 

“I think I’m starting to understand a little better…” Her voice trails off as she takes on a more pensive expression. “When you were having difficulty adjusting, that wasn’t just because you suddenly had control again… you were thinking of the bigger picture.” 

Bowing her head in agreement, Byleth averts her gaze somewhat, eyes falling back on the letter waiting for her. “I wasn’t kidding when I said it felt easier just belonging to you. Being torn between two sides was bearable when it wasn’t my choice.” 

Edelgard follows where she was watching. Picking up the envelope, she contemplates it for a moment before handing it to Byleth. “Then all I’ve done is make you trade one form of imprisonment for another.” 

“You’re making it sound like…” 

“… I know.” Edelgard looks pained. “But I’m not so blind that I haven’t noticed how difficult of a time you’ve had as of late.” 

“That’s the cost of my neutrality,” Byleth states. “What other option do I have but to bear it?” 

_Hrmmming_ under her breath, Edelgard closes her eyes and sighs loudly. “Byleth, if I may inquire to you something… why haven’t you just asked me?” 

“The same reason you haven’t asked me to pick up my sword and join you in battle.” 

Truthfully, Byleth had never even contemplated using their relationship as leverage. She knew Edelgard could be stubborn - delightfully so at times - and that any sort of ultimatum would more likely than not destroy everything they had built. 

She preferred it that way. Less pressure, even if it led to the resignation that things would always be outside her control. 

“And what if that’s what she’s demanding?” 

Cutting straight to the crux of the matter was very typical of her; they had danced around this issue for long enough. 

“She doesn’t command me,” Byleth replies, knowing the answer was only weakened by the choice she made five years ago.

Silence. Then Edelgard’s eyes and expression soften ever so slightly.

“This reminds me just how strong of heart you are, my starlight.” 

That catches Byleth by surprise. Of all the words she would use to describe herself, _strong_ was not one of them. _Indecisive, maybe._

Clutching the envelope tightly in both hands, she feels the weight of what could be written. Duty, responsibility, faithfulness… all concepts she had abandoned just to have another chance with the one person whom mattered most. 

_Consequences be damned._

“If it will help, I’ll give you space to read and figure this out,” Edelgard offers, stepping back to the door. But Byleth grabs her wrist before she can. 

“Stay, please.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I am. The idea of not having to read it alone… that’s a lot less scary.” 

Edelgard crosses her arms together, chewing slightly on her bottom lip as she contemplates the request. It was intimate, Byleth knows that; the contents of the letter could contain the culmination of their brief conflict with each other. 

“Okay,” is her response, and that settles it. 

Nodding, Byleth places the end of her thumb against the wax, then carefully pops the seal. She pulls out a few pages of parchment, inscribed in a neat and familiar script. Shuffling through them, she realizes that there were actually two different sets of handwriting. 

Two different letters. 

Taking one, Byleth finds herself instantly drawn back to her teaching days, reminded of the lengthy examinations she used to assign. _One of my students…_ How many times had her eyes run over the penmanship, offering praise and critique alike? 

Without delay, she begins to read. 

—

_Salutations, ~~Byleth~~ Professor Byleth, _

_Surprise! It’s me, Flayn! ~~I hope you haven’t forgotten me~~ I bet you weren’t expecting to hear from me! _

_When Rhea said she was going to write you a letter, I desperately wished to do the same. But she and father forbid me from doing so ~~which I thought was rather rude~~ , which has forced me to sneak behind their backs. As such, I managed to intercept the envelope before it was sent, then added my own message before redoing the seal. _

_Pretty tricky of me, don’t you think?_

_Oh, but I don’t mean to get caught off track! I’m just really, really excited that you’re alive! ~~Obviously, or else you wouldn’t be reading this.~~ We never truly doubted you were gone, but it was very worrying not to hear from you since the war started. _

_Speaking of… you’re in the Empire? I almost couldn’t believe it when I first heard the news. It shouldn’t surprise me, seeing as they control the monastery and the surrounding area, but still, I was rather worried!_

_But I don’t have to be, do I? Rhea and Seteth are unsure of what to believe - if you are still being held as a prisoner, or if you have decided to join the Adrestians and betray us. I, however, am convinced of something else entirely._

_See, I may have only spent half a year in the Black Eagle class, but I did my best to pay attention and fit in. ~~And had a lot of fun.~~ So unlike the rest of my family, I can say with a good bit of confidence that I know what’s really going on. _

_Which, before I forget, I’d like to congratulate you! Admittedly I can’t claim to be Her Majesty’s most stalwart fan, given what has happened… but I am happy for you, above all. That is what friends are for!_

_I have a lot of questions._

_Was the Imperial Ball your first kiss? How long have you been pining for each other? Were both of you aware of your attraction to the same sex beforehand? ~~Have you slept together yet?~~ Does she still blush whenever you say something nice?_

_Oh dear, I may have gotten off course again. All I mean to say is that I am grateful you no longer have to hide your ~~very obvious~~ affections. _

_As for what else…_

_I did not look at what Rhea wrote, since that is private between you and her. All I can say is that she was not happy to learn about your relationship with Emperor Edelgard. Ever since, she has been planning something - what it is, I cannot say._

_Please, watch out. Whatever you have decided is your future, there are those who will not accept that. I will always believe in you, and I imagine that Her Majesty does as well - it is interesting to think how we might feel similarly, even on opposing sides._

_Take care of yourself, Professor. I truly hope that when we next see each other, it will be in a Fódlan without conflict, and you can regale me with tales of your time in Adrestia._

_All the best,_

_Your student and friend,_

_Flayn_

_P.S. - Alois says hello! Though he is worried about your present location. ~~Shamir gave some kind of nod when I asked how she felt about you. Not sure if that’s good or bad.~~_

_P.S.S - Edelgard and or Hubert, if you are reading this letter, please give it to the Professor. It is considered in quite poor decorum to sort through another’s mail._

—

Byleth has to put a hand over her mouth in order to stifle a fierce bout of laughter, though out of joy or relief she doesn’t quite know. 

“Oh Flayn,” she whispers, muffled. _Still as invasively curious as ever._

Edelgard however appears to think the action was wrought by grief, and she steps over to comfort her partner. But Byleth allows her to see the smile in reassurance. 

“I’m okay El, promise.” She holds up the unexpected letter. “Flayn managed to sneak in some correspondence of her own.” 

“Flayn? That is rather unexpected.” 

“It is,” Byleth agrees, placing her message on the table. “She’s happy for us, by the way. Well, happy for _me_ , which includes you by extension.” 

Looking thoroughly baffled, Edelgard rubs at her temple with a finger. “I see… well, I’m glad you received something positive, at least.” 

“Me too.” Byleth turns back to the other letter that had arrived in the envelope, and mentally braces herself. As much of a reprieve as Flayn’s would have been, she remembers what was said. _Rhea wasn’t happy._

_Why would she be? By all appearances, I’ve forsaken the cause I took up arms for._

Seeing no sense in delaying the inevitable, Byleth picks up the archbishop’s letter and seals what she assumes is her fate. 

—-

_My child,_

_You are alive._

_I’ve repeated these words to myself for so long now, over and over again. Every day for five years I prayed that you would return to us, and when I heard the news of your survival, you could not imagine the tears of joy I wept._

_You are alive, dear one._

_It is almost a miracle._

_Flayn and Seteth’s elation cannot be understated as well. In fact, it was difficult to exclude greetings from everyone who misses you, which was quite a lot. I often forget just how popular you were during your brief tenure at the academy._

_I cannot know if this letter will ever reach you; the Adrestians may very well never allow it. However, if the Goddess has any mercy left for us these words will not be kept from you._

_There is so much that I wish to speak to you about that the years haven’t let me._

_Of the Church and our struggles._

_Of your friends and their pain at your loss._

_Of my guilt at knowing you gave yourself to save me._

_You are alive, and yet I have never felt farther from you. But I cannot fill these pages with nothing but my long withheld ramblings. Not while so much is at stake._

_Byleth, I will not skirt around the situation you have found yourself in. By now, it is known across all of Fódlan that your whereabouts are within the Empire. That you belong in favorable company with the Emperor, despite what has happened._

_That it is perhaps more than favorable._

_Seteth believes you may hold false feelings, born of coercion or the difficulty of your circumstance. I suspect differently; you and her were always close during your time at the academy, perhaps inappropriately so._

_That is not to say that forming romantic attachments is wrong. Finding a source of strength and happiness during such a difficult time is something oft encouraged for everyone, especially those who bear the heaviest burdens of the conflict._

_But this goes beyond that._

_I will not insult your independence by pretending this is anything other than your own choice. You have always been far too forgiving and kind, especially to those who don’t deserve it._

_And that you have yet to present yourself on the battlefield tells me you understand this as well._

_However, dear one,_

_I do not wish to condemn whatever happiness you have found for yourself. But even you must know that this is temporary, nothing more than a fleeting dalliance amidst a turmoil of confused emotions. And when your time together comes to an end, you will see the truth of my words all those years ago._

_All she can offer you is death._

_Certainly, there are many things I should have said before we parted, and only now do I understand that the secrets I have kept may be responsible for our separation._

_If I had told you the truth, then maybe I would not have pushed you away._

_But there is no more time for what-if’s._

_I owe you much in the way of answers; about your parents, your history, our familial connection… your past has always been bound to the Church of Seiros._

_And your future lies with it as well._

_When we last spoke, I entrusted you with guardianship of the Church should anything happen to me. I did not make this decision lightly, nor without careful consideration. Your connection to the Goddess is nothing short of divine providence, and I can think of no one better suited to carry the hopes and burdens of Fódlan's faithful._

_You would make a selfless leader of the Faith, and a divine icon of the Goddess._

_And it is my every intention to transform you into one._

_Byleth, if your relationship with the Emperor is what I think it is, then you must find the courage within yourself to leave the Empire and return to us._

_Join me at the fortress city of Arianrhod. There you will find the answers that you seek, and the path you were meant to follow._

_What you were born to be._

_Even now, you remind me so much of Sitri. You share her warm smile, gentle wisdom, and devout spirit. I truly regret that you never had the chance to meet; her loss still weighs heavily on me._

_And in a way, you also remind me of my own mother. She too was full of light and kindness. I see so much of her in you, my dear child._

_It wouldn’t be amiss of me to say that you have her heart._

_\- Rhea_

—

There is no noise, no sound. The only feeling that Byleth is aware of is the sensation of her hands tightening, crumpling the parchment between her fists. 

“Byleth?” 

Looking up, she meets Edelgard’s concerned eyes, the lilac colors darkened with intent. Even though the emperor tries to disguise it as best she could, Byleth can still make out the small, _selfish_ part that wished for a particular outcome. It was the same part she felt within herself. 

“My starlight, are you okay? You seemed… disturbed while reading.” 

_Would you prefer it if I were merely disowned? Cast away from the Church and into the Empire without a doubt left? Because I can’t help but feel that would be easier too…_

But that hadn’t happened. Instead, she had been left with a choice masquerading as marching orders. Fulfill her duty, or be crushed under the weight of all those failed expectations. 

Not for the first time, Byleth realizes just how much she’s failed _everyone_ in her life. 

“Rhea… she’s asking me to come back to the Church.” 

“Well, that’s to be expected,” Edelgard replies with a confirming gesture. “I imagine you’re being asked to join the war?” 

Byleth just shakes her head. There’s a dull throbbing that was building in her chest, spreading to the outer reaches of her torso. It _hurts_ more so than she ever remembers feeling before.

“I’ve been formally named as her successor.” She meets Edelgard’s eyes. “Rhea wants me to be the next archbishop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yes… if you were expecting a full page of unhinged Seiros ranting, sorry to disappoint. Seteth convinced her to cool down a little before sending any sort of message.
> 
> For this chapter, I tried to make both Flayn and Rhea’s writing styles stand apart. Flayn’s is more cohesive, while Rhea’s comes across as rambling beneath the surface. The last five years haven’t been easy on her. Rhea’s message is full of ~~unsubtle as hell~~ clues and hidden meanings for the reader. For Byleth… well, what does she know?
> 
> Anyway, seeing as it is halfway through February… that means I have been writing this story for a year now. 
> 
> I honestly can’t believe it. It feels so strange to me that not only have I devoted such a long period of time to this single piece of fiction, but that people also like it (?), and are still following it even now. (People are still reading it, right? XD)
> 
> I could go on and on, but I really just want to say thank you. To everyone that has given this self-indulgent fic a chance, who has left kudos or commented, even those just silently reading along. Thank you. 
> 
> I love this pairing to death, and hopefully can continue writing it for a while longer.


End file.
